Fred, George and the Secrets of Hogwarts
by Spiralling-Down
Summary: It's Fred and George's first year at school. While exploring secret passageways into Hogsmeade, they discover a mysterious scroll, which lays out the details of a challenge set up centuries ago by the founders of Hogwarts. It will be difficult, dangerous and highly likely to be against school rules... Who are they to refuse when an adventure comes their way?
1. Nerves and Anticipation

**So… I'm planning on a longish story for this, covering the twins' first year at Hogwarts. I'm thinking, maybe something interesting happened to them in their first year too, just like Harry, Ron and Hermione, only the teachers never found out about their adventures. In any case, I wouldn't put it past them to get up to something interesting, and I fully intend to "record" that! **

**Disclaimer: I wish…**

* * *

><p><em>Dear Diary,<em>

_You're not really a diary, sorry. You're a piece of parchment Mum gave us because she said we needed to 'show our excitement in some way other than dancing on the table and singing'. We're not really sure why she cared, to be honest... It's not like we were wearing shoes. Parents... We'll never understand them. Anyway, we just thought we should get that out in the open about you not being a diary, so you don't get excited and think we'll be writing on you every day._

_Right! I bet you're wondering why we were so full of life that we got banished to our room… It is pretty amazing. Want us to tell you? We'll take that silence as a 'yes'. We're going to go to Hogwarts tomorrow! We've been waiting for this day for eleven entire years of our lives (and a bit) and now it's here! Finally! We've been to Diagon Alley, got our stuff and our wands, which are awesome, and we're mostly packed (though if we've learned anything from years of taking the others to the station, it's that we'll have to go back for something). Now we just have to wait for one more night, before we'll be spending it in the Gryffindor common room._

_What's that you're saying? How do we know we'll be in Gryffindor? Of course we'll be in Gryffindor, you silly bit of parchment! We're Weasleys. People say it doesn't really matter what house you're in, but we all know that's not true. Especially for us. We have to be in Gryffindor because we have to be in the same house, and if one of us wasn't it would be a mistake! But it's not a problem anyway, because we know that that's exactly where we'll end up. Because we're not just any old Weasleys - we're the Weasley twins! Fred and George, Gred and Forge, trouble-makers extraordinaire. If Percy-The-Prat-Who-Wants-To-Be-Head-Boy got into Gryffindor, so will we._

_Maybe we'll see you again when we're proper Hogwarts students! Anyway, wish us luck for tomorrow._

_Fred and George_

_P.S. I'm Fred - it was me writing. Oh, and George says he hopes you're pleased we interacted with you so much even though you're not even a real diary. Let alone something conscious._

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><p>"What if we aren't together, though?" said George.<p>

This was a thought that scared him quite a lot, and Fred too. It had first occurred to them during Charlie's first Christmas holiday back at the Burrow when they were six years old. He'd told them about trying on the Sorting Hat, and about how shocked he'd been when it had told him he could fit in well in Hufflepuff, before in fact announcing that Gryffindor had really been the obvious choice all along. Since then, the horrible idea of being separated had grown in their minds, with the result that at least half of their elation at going to Hogwarts was down to the need to be sure, absolutely sure, that their worst fears wouldn't become some kind of nightmarish reality.

For the moment though, they shook these thoughts off. It wasn't really their style to be bothered by speculation.

"Hmmm… Ron and Ginny are going to be away from our influence for an entire term. That's not good…"

"You think we should give them something to remember us by?"

"Definitely, Fred. We don't want their minds to be poisoned by good behaviour and rules… Mum's sure to take advantage of our absence to try to drill her idea of manners into their heads." George bracketted the word 'manners' with his fingers as he said this.

"And of course, if what the others say is true, this is our last chance to use magic outside school without the Ministry on our backs until we're seventeen…" smirked Fred. "We can still play the 'we didn't know anything about it' card at the moment, and even if we aren't Muggle-borns, they can't disagree."

Five minutes later, shrieks were heard from Ron's room, as he discovered his treasured posters of the Chudley Canons were now magenta, his least favourite colour, instead of their usual shade of painfully bright orange. This seemed to Molly Weasley like suspiciously advanced magic for two untrained eleven-year-olds, but Fred and George stubbornly insisted that 'two wands are better than one'. Bill, who was of age already, was at a friend's house, so he couldn't have had anything to do with it. It was quite peculiar really, but when she tried asking Arthur how he thought they might have managed it, his ears went a very strange shade of pink and he started mumbling something unintelligible. Molly wasn't stupid, but she didn't want to argue with anybody on the twins' last day at home. She decided that the least mayhem would be caused if Fred and George were imprisoned in their beds and she declared the end of the evening.

Eventually, the twins were in safely shut in their room. Getting them there was an astonishing feat by both of their parents, but a combination of numerous threats and much yelling, mostly from their mother, managed it. Fred was lying in the bed nearest the door, rolling around in his tangled sheets and trying to work out whether that was really the best way to get to sleep. He kept half an eye on George, who sat straight against wall with one knee jiggling up and down. Also probably not the most restful position.

"Tomorrow there'll be other people with us. I wonder what they'll be like," whispered Fred.

"I don't know… Gryffindors though, don't forget. They've got to be all right."

There was silence, as the twins' fears about the Sorting seemed to creep into the room again. George shivered in his thin pyjamas.

"Cold?"

"Only a bit."

It was all the encouragement Fred needed. As much for his own comfort as his twin's, he crossed the room and the two sat pressed together on George's bed. When Molly came into the room in the morning, she found her sons asleep in a tangle of limbs on George's bed, Fred's head pillowed in his brother's shoulder. That was the last time they'd be able to do that for a long while. Hogwarts was waiting.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: This was a horribly short chapter, but it was only really meant as an introduction. I doubt much of it will have any relevance later on, but I kind of thought it was important anyway to their lives, if not to the story as a whole. I want to do their whole First Year, like in the books, so I thought I should start at the beginning instead of leaping in straight where I'd like to! Another thing the style in this chapter is different to the rest, on account of it being pretty much just an introduction. From the first proper chapter and onwards, there'll be a lot more character interaction and so on. Also, most (if not all) of the other chapters will be a lot longer than this… If they aren't, you have my permission to hunt me down and tie me to my chair until I write more. Sound all right? OK.)<strong>


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer: I didn't own Harry Potter last chapter, and surprisingly enough, I still don't own it now. No, I didn't become J.K. Rowling overnight. If I had, my writing would be a lot better. And I also wouldn't be on **_**fan**_**fiction.**

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><p>"Get up, both of you! We're going to be late!" shouted Molly. She wrenched the curtains back to the twins' moaning, as they blinked in the sudden light.<p>

"Uggh, Fred, my arm's gone to sleep," groaned George, extracting it from beneath his brother's head.

By this point, Fred had woken up just enough to remember what day it was. In a blur of movement, George found himself hauled out of bed and in a heap on the floor.

"Come on, George, come on! Hurry up! You don't want to miss the train."

Finally understanding, George jumped up from the floor and leaped towards the door. The twins scrambled downstairs, almost sending Ginny over the banister, and made their way into the kitchen, where a bleary-eyed Ron was already eating a piece of toast. There was a delicious smell of sizzling bacon - Molly had clearly wanted to give everyone a good send off! Fred and George sat down on either side of Ron and Molly placed a plate of food in front of each of them.

Ginny emerged, looking slightly wary after her near escape on the stairs, with Charlie and Percy close behind. Charlie looked cheerful at the thought of seeing his friends again, but Percy, on the other hand, sighed theatrically when he noticed the twins' slightly manic expressions.

"They're going to make my year a complete nightmare," he said. "How am I expected to become a Prefect in Fifth Year with those two causing chaos every two and a half minutes and all of it being attributed to my name?"

Fred caught George's eye and raised one eyebrow. George nodded almost imperceptibly and the two rose as one and sidled over to stand on either side of Percy.

"What could we possibly do to you?"

"We're only young, innocent First Years."

"If anything, you'll be tarnishing our reputation."

"We don't want the school to think all Weasleys are Prefect material. That'd be no fun at all!"

Seeing Percy open his mouth, outraged, Molly stepped in. "Percy, the twins are going to have to go to Hogwarts. They'll be in a different year to you – you'll be fine. Fred, George, if I hear one word from the school about your misbehaviour, I will not hesitate to bring you straight back home! And remember, you'll be letting your House down if you lose points, not just the rest of us. Now go and finish your breakfast – I don't want to argue about this."

Fred and George knew when they were beaten, and headed back to the table. However, Charlie leaned over. "Don't worry, you two. The name "Weasley" is tarnished enough already. Bill and I have made sure of that. The knack is not to be caught – then you still get made a Prefect and Mum'll be happy too."

Fred and George exchanged evil grins. There was no way in hell they'd be made Prefects, but their mother didn't need to know that yet.

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><p>Soon breakfast was over, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George had hauled their heavy trunks downstairs, and everyone was piled into the blue Ford Anglia.<p>

"Goodness, there are a lot of buttons on this thing. Are you absolutely sure you can work it?" Molly asked.

"Of course I can work it, Molly, dear. You learn about that sort of thing in driving lessons. Marvelous." This satisfied Molly, but George noticed his father cough nervously and hide a couple of the more recently added buttons underneath one hand… Thinking about it, he wasn't quite sure that you were meant to be able to fit nine people into one small Muggle car this easily, anyway... But there wasn't much time to think about it, because then, finally, they were leaving the house, for the last time until the Christmas holidays.

Half an hour later, they were back at the Burrow to retrieve Fred's toothbrush. He claimed he didn't need it, but Molly insisted that "Scourgify" was definitely not adequate to clean your teeth. They left again.

When they finally reached King's Cross, they only had ten minutes left to get on the train. Charlie and Percy ran ahead with the twins, while Bill stayed to help Arthur with the trunks. By the time Fred and George reached the stone barrier, a few seconds after their brothers, they were panting. Trying hard to look unobtrusive, they wandered towards the barrier. At that moment, a security guard noticed them without any parents or luggage.

"Where are you two going without your family? Are you lost?" Taking their silence as innocent gratification, he continued. "Come with me, we'll put a message out over the speaker. Don't worry, we'll find them soon enough."

Fred looked at his watch in panic. The train would leave in five minutes, and they were meant to be meeting Molly and Arthur on the platform. George nudged him, and then reached into his pocket and casually dropped a dungbomb a few metres away. It exploded, causing a horrible smell and a lot of smoke. The guard clamped his hands over his nose, eyes watering, and entirely failed to notice the two boys slide sideways through the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

They gazed around in wonder. Somehow they'd never really appreciated the way the smoke spiraled into the air from the gleaming scarlet steam train, until they were the ones who were about to board it. And they'd hadn't noticed the air of excitement amongst the students milling around on the platform, because they were much too focused on their older brothers who would be leaving them alone, yet again! It felt like a completely different place, now that they saw everything, noticed everyone.

A few minutes later, Molly and Arthur arrived with Ron and Ginny in tow.

"Quick, quick, all of you! We couldn't get through," she explained. "Looks like someone accidentally dropped a dungbomb and the Muggles mistook the smoke for some kind of weapon or something… There was quite a crowd around the barrier and they didn't want to let us through."

"They said they were calling "bomb disposal unit". Simply fantastic. You don't think we can catch a glimpse of it later, do you, Molly?" Arthur said vaguely.

Fred and George exchanged grins as Molly handed out sandwiches, ignoring her husband, and kissed each of her sons goodbye.

Molly hugged the twins tightly. "Be good. We'll send you a letter as soon as possible. Good luck. Now get on the train, quickly! It's about to leave."

Ginny looked tearful, and Ron's mouth was set hard.

"Don't worry, you two. We'll send tons of owls!" shouted Charlie over his shoulder, heaving his, Percy's and the twins' trunks onto the train.

"We'll see you at Christmas! Earlier, if they expel us before that!" said Fred.

He and George raced onto the train, just as it was starting to pull away from the platform, and ran over to a window to wave goodbye. Ginny and Ron were waving manically, and they could just about see Molly mouthing some kind of threat, probably along the lines of just what she'd do to them if they got so much as a detention, but they couldn't hear her over the noise of the train.

"Well, I'm going to go and find some _civilised_ company," sniffed Percy. "You might have fooled Mum and Dad, but I know it was you dropping that dung bomb."

"Here are your trunks. Listen, I saw Tonks – she says she's saving a compartment. Go and find somewhere to sit." Charlie nudged Fred and George's trunks towards them. "See you at the Sorting!"

"Abandoned by our own brothers," said Fred, with an air of mock sorrow.

"Ah well. We'd better go and make our own way in life. Come on!"

Fred and George dragged their trunks up the train, looking through the compartment windows.

"There's only one person in that one. Looks like a First Year like us. Shall we go and have a look?" said George.

"Yeah, all right."

They slid the door open.

"Mind if we join you? I'm George Weasley," said Fred.

"And I'm Fred," finished George.

The boy smiled. He looked friendly enough and had an easy air of mischief in his eyes that attracted the twins. He was a little bit taller than them, dark-skinned, and he wore his black hair in dreadlocks.

"Yeah, come on in. I'm Lee Jordan. Are you First Years too?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Fred, making himself comfortable opposite Lee. George sat down next to him.

"Nervous?" asked Lee.

"Nah, not really. The school won't know what's hit in when we arrive. Anyway, we have three older brothers. They've told us quite a bit. We know all its weak points, which teachers to watch out for, all that sort of stuff."

"Three older brothers? Really? I haven't got any brothers or sisters. It'd be nice to get a bit of information. Or to pollute their minds, if they're younger."

"Well we get to do both. We have a little brother and little sister too," George informed him. "And we have each other, obviously. Instant partner-in-crime, y'know. And an alibi, if we need one."

"One of our brothers is a right git though. Percy. He desires nothing more than to be a prefect."

"The shame of it is almost too much…" George shook his head sadly. Fred smirked.

"I'd rather have a prefect for a brother than nobody..." said Lee, gloomily, but brightening again, he continued. "Still, I'm not alone any more! Hogwarts awaits. What about your parents, by the way? My dad's a wizard, but my mum's a Muggle. I get the best of both worlds there."

"Our whole family is magic," said George.

"Don't get us wrong, though," Fred continued. "We don't go in for the whole "Pure-bloods are the only people worth living – squash everything else" thing. Dad's obsessed with Muggles. Better not let him meet your mum… He'd go nuts from the excitement."

Lee snorted. "She gets quite a bit of that already from the grandparents! They just don't understand any of it… You should hear them. Anyway! Any idea what House you're heading for? I'm going to be a Gryffindor, like Dad."

"Us too! Gryffindors rule! Our whole family's been in Gryffindor, and we have no desire to break the tradition." The twins took turns to high-five Lee.

"House pride!" Lee whooped.

At this point, another boy outside the compartment turned his head sharply to look through the glass. He wrinkled his nose pointedly, but didn't move on. Fred got up and opened the door. The boy had pale skin and short dark hair that lay flat against his head. He was somewhere between Lee and the twins in height, and stood leaning against the door frame with the air of someone who has been king for his whole life, and has learned to expect instant obedience from his servants and people. He made no move to leave the compartment.

"You got a problem?" Fred asked, firmly, but not wanting to judge anyone quite yet.

"Nothing I want to share with a bunch of Gryffindor wannabes," the boy remarked. "I was just surprised anyone would want to be in a House in which nobody has enough brains to think before plunging into pointless danger. What a sad day – there are actually three of you brainless idiots coming to Hogwarts…"

Now George and Lee had risen to their feet too.

"Where do you plan on going then, seeing as there aren't any Houses specifically for people with no taste?" said Lee.

"Slytherin. Where those of us without filthy blood end up," he said, giving Lee a nasty smirk. Clearly he'd heard the discussion about families.

Lee stood frozen in rage. Fred, in a rare moment of rationality, made to shut the door.

"Sorry, we don't want your type in here. Too inbred. What's your name, anyway?" he asked. "I'd like to see if I recognise it from the old wanted posters…"

"Adrian Pucey. No need to ask about you – my sister's told me enough about you Weasleys. I'd be able to tell your family reunion from a mile off. Just look for a bonfire – most likely, it's your hair."

Pucey stepped backwards smartly, as Fred slammed the compartment door, breathing heavily.

"Not the best analogy I've heard, to be honest," he said lightly, when he had recovered his composure.

"You reckon we have our first test subject?" said George, his voice tight and face pale with suppressed anger.

"I think so, yes. Didn't want to get into a fight then. It'd ruin the effect later on. And Mum's words are still too fresh in my memory. "Don't get into trouble", "keep out of other people's business", all that."

"Fancy a hand with revenge?" asked Lee. "I don't think that's the last insult I'll get from his type, if anyone else thinks Muggles are worthless."

"We could do with another accomplice, if you're up for the risk."

"Bravery is my middle name," said Lee, trying to sound impressive

"What? Lee Bravery Jordan? Nice to meet you," said George.

Suddenly everything seemed very funny to them, and the plump witch who arrived with the trolley full of snacks seemed quite taken aback when she slid the compartment door open to find three boys lying on the floor holding their stomachs from laughter.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she said, trying to return to her normal routine.

"We've got sandwiches, but if we pool our pocket money, we could manage a few Chocolate Frogs," offered Fred.

George agreed, and Lee decided on a few Cauldron Cakes for himself, so a few minutes later, they were sitting together, laughing and exchanging Chocolate Frog cards.

"Dumbledore! Again!" exclaimed Fred. "Do either of you want it?"

"I already have five of him. Pass it over though, I want to be prepared for him actually being our headmaster…" said George.

"Wow. It's weird thinking of that. Actually, we should probably get changed. It looks dark. We'll be there soon!" Lee's voice trembled in excitement.

"Blimey, you're right," said Fred.

The boys pulled their new robes over their heads and looked out of the window.

"Hey!" George cried suddenly. "Is that one of the carriages?" He craned his neck back as far as he could to get a better view of the area up ahead of them.

By the look of it, they were getting close to the castle, because the train started to slow down, and they could just make out the edge of the lake and the station through the night, as well as the carriage George had seen. When the train finally came to a halt, the twins reached up and grabbed their luggage. With Lee close behind them, they dragged the trunks out of the compartment and joined the crush of students making its way onto the platform.

Fred looked over at his twin, and saw an elated grin that perfectly mirrored his own. He could feel nervous anticipation bubbling in his stomach, and willed the crowd to move faster and just get to Hogwarts already!

Soon, they heard a shout of, "Firs' years, over here!" coming from a gigantic man who was standing next to a small fleet of boats by the river. This must be Hagrid. They could see why Charlie liked him - he had an amazing black beard, and friendly eyes, and apparently, he was as obsessed with dragons as Charlie, though the twins could hardly believe that was possible. Fred, George and Lee pressed towards him through the mass of older students, who were waiting to get on the carriages. (Interestingly enough, the carriages seemed to be moving without the help of horses or any other kind of magical creature, but they'd work that out later.)

"Hello. Yeh mus' be Fred an' George. Yer brother told me you'd be coming ter Hogwarts this year. And what's your name?"

"I'm Lee."

"Good to meet yeh." He raised his voice slightly. "Is this everyone? I'm Hagrid, I'm the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Righ', well we'll be taking the boats up to the castle, an' then you'll be Sorted into yer Houses. It's traditional, see."

A nervous looking girl with large blue eyes and a light brown plait that reached half way down her back raised her hand, tentatively. "How do we get Sorted?"

"I don' want to spoil the surprise – yeh'll find out soon enough! Now, everyone get into groups of three or four for a boat, an' we'll be off."

Fred grabbed George's wrist and pulled him towards the nearest boat, with Lee following close behind. They were joined by the girl who'd asked about the Sorting, and then they started to move off.

"You know, Bill told us there's a Giant Squid in the lake. Think it wants to make friends?" said Fred, with a characteristically troublesome smirk.

Lee grinned and poked his oar further into the water. "We'll have to come and take a swim later, and find out."

When they turned a bend in the lake, the castle came into view, all at once. It towered over them, complete with towers, the highest of which were obscured slightly by fog, and a set of heavy wooden doors. Outside the doors, a irritable-looking man stood holding a lantern.

He leered down at the pale First Years clustered around the door. "You'll want to get tidied up a bit. I don't turn a blind eye to muddy footprints all over the Great Hall, even if it is your first day."

"Let 'em be, Filch. They've got enough on their plates as it is, goin' up in front of the whole school an' all."

Filch gave the group a nasty look, but opened the door. They were met by a severe looking witch, who was wearing a tall hat and a cloak. Her grey hair was held tightly in a bun, and she gave the new First Years an appraising look, as though she was trying to identify and commit to memory the potential troublemakers of the group.

"Good evening to you all. My name is Professor McGonagall. I will be taking you into your Sorting in a few minutes' time. I'm sure I need not tell you how important this event will be for the rest of your school careers. While you are at Hogwarts, your House will be like your family. You will take part in all activities together. Good behaviour will earn you points, and bad behaviour will lose it. Before we are needed, I suggest you try to look presentable. After all, this is the first glimpse your Housemates will be getting of you."

At that, she turned and waited for them to follow her into the Entrance Hall. Pucey turned to look at a friend, his face etched in glee. The girl from their boat seemed positively terrified and had turned a pale green colour. She wasn't the only one - several students were nervously attempting to flatten their hair and clean their shoes on the backs of their legs. Fred and George looked at each other, each face echoing the other's determination and adrenalin. This was it.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Well… Here's the first real chapter. Next will be the Sorting. Bet you didn't guess that! Anyway, I hope you liked this. Reviews are always encouraging! Tell me what you thought. I'll try to update this pretty regularly, but it's hard to know how easy it will be to update, because at the moment I've been getting tons of homework one day and then none the next. Confusing. Anyway, I'll do my best! I think that's about all I have to say. See you next chapter!<strong>


	3. The Sorting Ceremony

**Disclaimer: Yet again, no, this is not mine. Does anybody actually think this could possibly belong to me? Because if you do, I think you're on the wrong website. This is fanfiction. Think. About. It.**

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><p>The First Years shuffled into the Entrance Hall, nervously trying to shake the mud off their feet as they were fixed by Filch's glare. Fred and George moved a little closer together, but stood up straight, refusing to give off any signs of fear. Lee walked next to them. He also looked outwardly nonchalant, but the twins could see him shaking slightly, like many of the other new pupils. Professor McGonagall had now reached the doors to the Great Hall, where the older students were waiting for the Sorting Ceremony.<p>

"Come along then. We can't keep Professor Dumbledore waiting," she said briskly, and she threw open the doors.

None of the First Years seemed to want to be the first to go into the Great Hall. Eventually, a small boy was pushed through by the crowd of people, and gradually, everyone followed him in. Fred and George could practically feel their brothers' eyes on their backs. Professor McGonagall, in the mean time, had taken down a stool and a very battered old wizard's hat. Though lots of the First Years seemed prepared for this, several gave the hat cautious looks, and one girl stepped back onto Fred's toes, trying to get a bit further away.

"You know," he whispered in her ear, "Our brother told us some kind of creature comes out of it."

George quickly picked up on his twin's idea. "I think we have to get past it to get Sorted. I hope you've read your books carefully – I heard it's going to be a dragon this year."

The girl made a strangled choking noise, and blanched. She seemed to feel it was her duty to pass this message on, and soon a boy tapped George on the arm and told him, quite earnestly, that there was a dragon who ate the least magically talented person from each year and then Sorted the rest based on which table they managed to reach because their robes caught fire.

Professor McGonagall fixed a fierce gaze on the eleven-year-olds. "Quiet! The Sorting is about to begin."

At this, a rip in the base of the Hat opened (the girl in front of Fred jumped backwards onto his foot again), and they heard a voice.

_It's a whole new year,  
>So here's my song:<br>I work out where  
>You'll all belong.<em>

_If in Gryffindor,  
>You're brave and bold,<br>Your founder favoured  
>Your "heart of gold".<em>

_A new Ravenclaw?  
>You'll thrive with your kind,<br>You have a thirst for learning  
>And an inquisitive mind.<em>

_If it's Hufflepuff  
>Where your loyalties lie,<br>You are kind and fair,  
>You'll work hard to get by.<em>

_As a Slytherin,  
>Determined and cunning,<br>You have the highest desires  
>As your ambition is stunning.<em>

_So try me on  
>And I will decide<br>On your friends, your rivals,  
>And eventual allies.<em>

_I see your thoughts,  
>It's as simple as that,<br>I know where you'll be,  
>I'm the Sorting Hat!<em>

"When I call your name, you will come and try on the Sorting Hat. When it tells you what House you are in, you will go and be seated at the correct table. I hope that you will all do your respective Houses proud," Professor McGonagall said. There was a storm of muttering amongst the First Years, each of which was blaming whoever told them about the "dragon" for startling them.

"Anderson, Freya," called Professor McGonagall. A girl with short blonde hair broke out of the crowd of First Years and made her way carefully up to the stool. She looked petrified at being the first to be sorted.

Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on her head. It fell down over her eyes. About half a minute later, it announced, "RAVENCLAW!"

One of the tables in the middle burst into applause, and Freya, looking relieved, hurried over to sit down, after handing the Hat back to Professor McGonagall.

"Cole, Matthew." The next boy stumbled towards the stool, looking shocked and more than a little scared at being next. Hat on head. Eyes obscured. Pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" This time the table on the right started clapping wildly. Matthew tripped towards them dazedly.

The twins began to lapse into boredom as Dale, Colin became the first new Slytherin and Dorris, Samantha was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Johnson, Angelina." A pretty girl with dark skin and long black hair in braids bounced forwards to sit on the stool. The Hat took only a few seconds to decide, "GRYFFINDOR!" Angelina smiled and ran over to join the Gryffindor table. Then it was Lee's turn.

"Jordan, Lee." Lee grinned at the twins, took a breath and walked up to the stool. Fred and George stopped fidgeting and focused their attention on their new friend. After a gap of only about ten seconds, the Hat announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Knew you could do it, mate," said Fred, as Lee passed them, beaming widely. He gave the twins a wink and went to sit down next to Angelina.

After a little while longer, Professor McGonagall called, "Pucey, Adrian". The boy from the Hogwarts Express walked calmly over and allowed McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat on his head. It had barely touched his hair before it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" and the table on the middle right exploded. Pucey strutted towards the Slytherin table, and Fred snarled quietly.

"I like the look of Slytherin even less now," he whispered to George.

Fred and George waited through the interminable number of First Years being sorted, taking careful notice of each new Gryffindor in particular, and trying to guess which House each child would go to.

"That's a Hufflepuff for sure," muttered George out of the corner of his mouth.

"SLYTHERIN!" screamed the Hat.

Fred bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at his twin's outraged expression. "Ah well. Better luck next time. Oh, that one _must _be a Ravenclaw."

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><p>Finally, there were only three of them standing there – Fred, George and one more girl.<p>

"Weasley, Fred," called Professor McGonagall.

Fred stepped forwards, trying to look indifferent at the same time as avoiding tripping over his robes, which had been Bill's and were really too long for him. He saw Charlie give him a quick thumbs up from the Gryffindor table as he sat down, before the Sorting Hat was dropped onto his head and he could see nothing.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said a quiet voice in Fred's ear.

_Yeah, that's right. And there's another coming just after this, and he'd better be in Gryffindor like me._

"Slow down. Perhaps I'm not going to put _you_ in Gryffindor."

_Course I'll be in Gryffindor. Weasleys are always in Gryffindor._

"You showed strong loyalty to your brother just then. Perhaps you'd be better suited to Hufflepuff…"

_Just put me in a House already. I'm hungry._

"Goodness, you really are a Weasley. All of your family seems to think only about their stomachs. This would have been quick anyway, if you hadn't started lecturing me about where to place your brother.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted the last word to the school. Fred pulled it off his head, grinning elatedly and performed a little bow in the direction of the table on the left. He walked as fast as he could without running towards the Gryffindor table, where Charlie was cheering and even Percy looked delighted. As he passed George, he squeezed his hand gently, trying to signal to him that they'd be together again in a few seconds. He reached the table and sat next to Charlie, who'd saved two seats because he "knew they'd need them".

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, George was starting to feel quite sick at the knowledge that he was about to be sorted. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out, "Weasley, George."<p>

George steeled himself and made his way over to the stool, just as carelessly as Fred had appeared, although his insides seemed to be attempting an animated performance of the can-can. He sat down and met Fred's eyes before having the Hat dropped over his eyes.

"Well well… You really are very similar to your brother," said the quiet voice in George's ear. George jumped slightly, and mentally kicked himself.

_That's right. That's why I'm going to be in Gryffindor._

"Just as adamant as him about that too. But I wouldn't be so hasty – there are marked differences between you."

_What are you talking about? Don't you know what "identical" means? Anyway, Percy's in Gryffindor and he's nowhere near as similar to Fred as I am, and-_

"Calm down. We're talking about your House now, not your family members'. You could do well in Ravenclaw, you know. Not a bad mind."

_Oh come off it. You can't really be suggesting I care about my marks?_

"Hard work is a Hufflepuff characteristic, and I'm doing the Sorting here, not you," the Hat remarked acidly.

_Well then you can get on with it. I'm starting to-_

"Don't say you're getting hungry, please. I already had that conversation with your twin. Very well then.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred leaped up from his seat and jumped up and down in excitement. George whipped the Hat from his head, colour flooding his pale face, and gave it an exaggerated flourish as he put it back on the stool. He could have sworn he heard it mutter something about carelessness, but he was already on his way to the Gryffindor table and didn't stop to listen to the details.

The twins high-fived each other, and Charlie patted George on the back, as the last girl, "Zamirski, Alexandra," became a Ravenclaw.

* * *

><p>George's stomach gave a loud rumble and Fred stared longingly at the empty plate in front of him. Then they both looked up at Dumbledore, who had stood up while McGonagall was moving the Sorting Hat and stool away.<p>

"His beard looks even better than it does on his Chocolate Frog card," whispered Fred, in awe.

Somehow, Dumbledore seemed to have heard him right from the staff table. His eyes twinkled at the twins over his half-moon spectacles, and they could have sworn they saw him wink.

"I know you're all very hungry, and the Feast is delicious," said Dumbledore, "but I must say a few words before you're too tired to listen. To our new students, welcome! To the rest of you, welcome back. I hope you all had a very enjoyable holiday, and your heads are nice and empty. Mr Filch, the caretaker, would like me to remind you, yet again, that a list of banned objects is fastened to his office door, and that that list has been extended since last year. I believe in now consists of several hundred items. Also, I would like to make it clear that the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to all students, unless accompanied by a teacher."

Fred and George gave each other meaningful looks. Charlie, looking slightly worried, whispered, "That isn't a challenge. Listen, you two, Mum'll murder me if you go and get yourselves killed in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Relax, Charlie, we won't let anyone catch us." Charlie groaned, but by this point, words were unfurling themselves from Dumbledore's wand and the teachers looked as though they were preparing themselves for a short period of torture. In many different keys, some of which probably didn't exist, the students started to sing:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts,  
>Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,<br>Teach us something please,  
>Whether we be old and bald,<br>Or young with scabby knees,  
>Our heads could do with filling,<br>With some interesting stuff,  
>For now they're bare and full of air,<br>Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
>So teach us things worth knowing,<br>Bring back what we've forgot,  
>Just do your best, we'll do the rest,<br>And learn 'til our brains all rot._

All the last few students finished off, Professor McGonagall sighed in relief. Dumbledore rose once more.

"I have one final notice, before we begin our feast. We have one new member of staff. Professor Lyndon will be joining us this year, for Defense Against the Dark Arts! I hope you will all make him feel comfortable!" Dumbledore beckoned at a man sitting next to McGonagall. He was very tall, with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail and several scars. Fred and George watched him in wonder, as he raised a large hand in acknowledgement of the pupils. He seemed exactly their type of person. However, at this point, plates piled high with different types of food and huge jugs of water and pumpkin juice appeared, and the twins promptly forgot about everything except their stomachs and mouths.

Just as George bit into a potato, the ghosts suddenly flew from all sides into the Hall. The First Years gasped, and George choked on his mouthful of food, which had been too large in the first place. A ghost with a ruff around his neck settled in front of the Gryffindor table.

"Good evening, Sir Nicholas," said Percy. He sounded pompous, but the ghost looked quite pleased at being addressed like this.

Fred swallowed with difficulty. "Sir Nicholas? Are you Nearly Headless Nick?"

"There's always _one_ student who has to ask that," Nick sighed. "I do hope sometimes that I could come and see the new Gryffindors without being called upon to demonstrate the inability of certain people to behead someone. Very well though." He grabbed his own ear and his head swung down, revealing a stump of pearly white neck. After listening to the Gryffindors' gasps of astonishment, he flipped his head back up onto his shoulders, looking aggrieved.

"Happy now?" he asked. He looked round at the open mouths of the First Years, sighed again, and drifted off through a wall.

"I think I quite like him," commented George.

"Nick acts like he hates every moment of his death, but he's all right really," Charlie told them, helping himself to a bread roll. "He's always willing to help out a Gryffindor, if you need him."

* * *

><p>The rest of the meal passed happily. Fred, George and Lee became involved in an animated discussion about Quidditch with two girls in their year, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, who were both hoping to make the team once they could bring their own brooms to school. This lasted right the way through pudding, until Dumbledore clapped his hands.<p>

"Now you've all been fed and watered, I expect you'd like to get some rest before your first day back. First Years, follow the Prefects up to your Common Rooms, and then bed!"

Charlie stood up and yelled, "All right, you lot! Follow me!"

They climbed a staircase, which abruptly decided to change direction when they were half way up. The First Years clutched the banister in shock, to the amusement of the older students, who were used to this sort of thing by now. Charlie, unfazed, led them through a tapestry and out onto another corridor, where they were met by a floating apparition sticking out his tongue and chucking ink pellets on the floor.

"Get lost, Peeves. He's a poltergeist, and a bloody annoying one too," he explained. "You want to watch out for him. It's all right if you're in Slytherin. Their ghost, the Bloody Baron, can always control him, but for the rest of us it's easiest just to ignore him. Come on."

The new Gryffindors stepped carefully through the ink pellets scattered over the floor, looking apprehensively up at Peeves, who was shrieking, "FIRSTIES! OVER HERE!" and blowing raspberries.

About half way down the corridor was a portrait of a fat lady wearing pink.

"Password?" she said.

"Phasomilia," replied Charlie, then to the First Years, "Remember that. You'll need it if you don't want to sleep on the floor until someone lets you in…"

They clambered through the portrait hole into a cozy room with two staircases leading off on either side. It was filled with squashy crimson armchairs and a couple of tables, and a fire was crackling.

"Girls on the left, boys on the right. Your trunks are already in your rooms."

The twins made their way upstairs and into their new room, where they each collapsed fully clothed onto a four poster bed and fell asleep within moments.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: There's not too much of interest in this chapter, I'll admit, and it's another pretty short chapter. Just really the first look at Hogwarts. It will get more interesting next chapter, I promise! <strong>I'm not totally happy for the Hufflepuff and Slytherin sections of the Sorting Hat's song, but I'm relatively pleased with the rest. <strong>I think this is probably the end of the introduction type stuff, so now we'll be moving onto things happening. I'll try to update soon. Please review and tell me what you thought!  
><strong>


	4. The Ghost Teacher

**Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? Do I really need to tell you all, yet again, that I am **_**not**_** J.K. Rowling, and in no way do I own Harry Potter…? Thought not. Good.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed so far, especially Charlie, who gave me the idea for this story and has reviewed everything I've put up on here. Thanks for the advice! **

**On another note, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been revising for my GCSE mocks all Christmas, and so I'm not sure how regular the updates will be for a little while. But I promise, I haven't abandoned this, and I don't intend to.**

* * *

><p>George opened his eyes slightly, shaking off a dream he'd been having in which he and Fred were being chased by Percy, who was trying unsuccessfully to hit them with a dictionary whilst yelling, "But it will make you more like me! Don't you want to be Prefects?" Shuddering at the quickly fading memory, George squinted at the ceiling. It looked different to normal. He vaguely wondered if Bill had changed it for a joke… He blinked, and something finally filtered through his brain.<p>

George's stomach flipped in excitement. He tumbled out of bed and made his way over to his sleeping brother. He ripped the hangings back to reveal Fred, tangled in his sheets with his face pressed into the pillow. George grabbed his shoulders and began to shake him awake.

"Wha-? Trying to sleep here…" Fred mumbled.

"Hogwarts, Fred! We're here! Wake up!"

Fred sat bolt up right, suddenly wide awake. He gazed at George with a look brimming with barely suppressed exhilaration.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's hurry up and get ready," he said, chucking a pillow at Lee's head.

A quarter of an hour later, the Great Hall was still nowhere in sight, and the twins had a strange feeling they'd been walking in circles for at least the past ten minutes.

"I don't even recognise this corridor… You dragged me out of bed for this?" moaned Lee.

"Can I be of assistance? I'm always glad to help new Gryffindors." Nearly Headless Nick had drifted sideways through a coat of armour, startling George, who accidentally stuck one arm through his stomach and withdrew it hastily, shivering from the unpleasant cold feeling. Luckily, Nick didn't seem to have noticed.

"We've lost the Great Hall. It isn't where we left it," said Fred.

Nick raised one translucent eyebrow. "If you turn left at the end of this corridor, there's a tapestry of a tower with a moat. Trace around the moat, and a passage will open up, which will take you straight down to the Entrance Hall," he told them. "You'd better get going if you don't want to miss breakfast."

"Thanks, Nick!" they called, a lot more cheery now there was the promise of food in a few minutes.

The three boys arrived at the tapestry Nick had told them about. George moved his finger over the moat, which ran around the edge of the tapestry. When he finished, the tapestry began to dissolve from the edge of the moat and moving inwards, leaving a sizable hole to climb through. When the three of them had clambered in, it closed up quickly behind them and several lamps lit themselves around the small chamber they were now standing in. Immediately, there was rushing sensation, as though they were moving very quickly downwards, and then all of a sudden they were thrown out of another hole to land sprawled on the floor of another small room.

"Beats Floo Powder," Fred grinned, picking himself up off the floor. "That was bloody brilliant!"

Fred, George and Lee walked out into the Entrance Hall. The door appeared to have vanished behind them, but Lee surreptitiously felt around the space of wall where it had been. He gave a nod to the twins – he could still feel the edges. George made a mental note of the passage. If they planned on looking around the place properly, they had to have a good idea of their escape routes.

* * *

><p>Soon, the twins were sitting in breakfast with Lee, happily eating bacon sandwiches.<p>

"So what d'you reckon we have today? In the way of lessons, I mean," asked George.

Percy leaned over from across the table. "You'll find out soon. Professor McGonagall's coming round now with the timetables. Of course, I remember my first lesson. I had Transfiguration, turning matches into needles. You'd be surprised how difficult it can be when you haven't done much magic yet, in fact-"

The twins continued to eat, used to tuning out Percy's long speeches. They let his voice wash over them, nodding and making noises of agreement occasionally, until a timetable was dropped next to each of their plates by McGonagall, who was walking briskly along behind the tables. Fred jabbed his finger excitedly at George's timetable.

"Look! We have a flying lesson today."

"Wicked! Oh, we're with the Slytherins, worst luck…"

"You never know. If we do any Quidditch later on, we might get to hit them in the face with a Bludger and claim it was an accident. I bag Pucey."

"Couldn't we _both _hit him? Anyway, other than that, it looks like we have History of Magic, Charms and Transfiguration today."

"Actually, we should probably get going. History of Magic starts in ten minutes, and we still have to get to the Common Room again to get our books," Lee commented, peering over Fred's shoulder.

"Oh yeah, good point," said Fred, standing up. "Percy…"

Fred fixed Percy with a plaintive gaze. Clearly, he was trying to look innocent, an expression that didn't really suit him, in an attempt to get Percy to take them to the classroom. Percy sighed.

"I'll take you back to the Common Room, but no further. I don't want to be late on the first day either – every lesson counts if I want to be a Prefect in Fifth Year. Look, it's just round the corner from here anyway, you should be able to find it."

Grumbling to themselves about selfish older brothers, the twins and Lee followed Percy back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, noting that he took the long route up. They gave the password and headed up to their dormitories to rummage around in their trunks for their History of Magic textbook.

"It's right at the bottom," grunted Lee, finally pulling it out and shoving it into his bag.

George looked at his copy in distaste. "It looks so boring, no wonder I didn't bother reading it."

"You _read_ our textbooks?" said Fred in amazement.

George rolled his eyes at his brother. "We looked at them together. We were trying to find a spell to turn Scabbers yellow, remember."

"Oh yeah… Percy's face would've been priceless, shame we couldn't find anything."

They continued this discussion right the way to the lesson, with Lee adding in his own suggestions occasionally. They had just decided that if there was no spell already, they'd have to make up a new one, when their teacher entered in a very unusual fashion.

Professor Binns glided through the blackboard at the end of the classroom, seemingly oblivious to the excited murmurs that swept through the room at his arrival. George gave Fred and Lee the thumbs up – if their teacher's entrance was anything to go by, this would be a good lesson. However, their hopes were soon dashed as Professor Binns started to talk. He had a very monotonous voice, and barely having taken in three words of his lecture on goblin rebellions of the thirteenth century, Fred and George began to feel their eyelids droop and they started to slip into a sort of boredom coma. They weren't the only ones. Angelina was stifling a yawn in the seat in front of them, and Alicia's chin was resting on her hands as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

George let his mind wander, until an idea struck him.

"Oi, Fred," he whispered. "There must be some advantage to having a ghost for a History of Magic teacher."

"You mean other than the fact that he probably lived through this goblin thingy?"

"That's no use unless you actually listen, so no. Anyway, earlier, my arm went through Nick, and I don't even think he noticed…"

Fred's eyes lit up. He had caught George's idea. He took a piece of parchment out of his bag and started to tear little bits off it and scrunch them up into balls, until they had a decent pile. When Binns turned to write on the blackboard, Fred took aim and threw one of the little balls. It went straight through Binns' stomach and hit the wall, but he didn't turn around or say anything. Perhaps he couldn't feel it, or maybe he had just become used to having things pass through him and didn't care. George and Lee smirked and each grabbed some parchment balls too. By the end of the lesson, they had devised a scoring system based on how precisely they aimed, and how likely it was for Binns to see the parchment when it came through. The rest of the class had seen what they were doing quite quickly, and Angelina was keeping a tally of their points as they became more daring while everyone else tried to smother their giggles.

Finally, the lesson was over and it was break-time. Binns was still droning on, despite the bell, but the Gryffindors had packed up and were starting to leave. Fred suddenly gasped, and put his hand in his pocket. He took out two dung bombs.

"What do you think?" he whispered to George. "Would that be going too far?"

"Let's find out."

Each of them took a dung bomb and simultaneously hurled them at Binns' head. They sailed through the ghost and hit the blackboard with a thump. This time Binns couldn't fail to notice. He turned in the air and looked at the twins vaguely. He seemed unsure of how he was meant to punish them, or indeed who they were. They held their breath.

At that moment, there was a mewing noise from their feet. A cat was winding around the desk, staring up at them with huge yellow eyes.

"Good puss," said Lee uncertainly.

The door opened, and Filch walked in looking gleeful.

"I followed Mrs Norris," he wheezed, and leaned down to stroke the cat's head. She purred and rubbed against his hand.

"Mrs Norris? The cat?" George muttered incredulously.

"She always knows how to sniff out troublemakers," Filch leered. His eyes bulged as he smelled the dung bombs. "Befouling the castle, eh? I can take them from here, Professor."

"It was those two," said Professor Binns, pointing an almost transparent finger at Fred and George. "They threw them through my head. I'll leave them to you, shall I?"

He seemed slightly dazed by this all, and drifted back through another wall. Filch started to bear down on the twins, ignoring Lee. They stood up straight and stared back at him, refusing to show weakness. His eyes darted between them.

"Well well. Only your first day here and already you're flouting the rules. I can see I have a pair of trouble-makers on my hands. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore will let me use the whips on you," he hissed, drawing ever closer. "Follow me. My office."

He strode out of the room. The twins glanced at each other.

"Want me to come too? Or…" Lee trailed off.

"No, it's OK. He doesn't want you," said George darkly.

"Save yourself, warn the others! If we don't come back, you know what happened…" added Fred, with a melodramatic flourish of his hands. George imitated cracking a whip.

At that, the two red-heads followed Filch out of the room and towards his office.

* * *

><p>Fred and George entered Filch's office cautiously. He was standing by a filing cabinet, muttering to himself as he searched for the right forms. Eventually, he pulled two out.<p>

"Names," he barked.

"Fred and George Weasley," Fred said, looking at George in trepidation.

"Crime…" he rasped. "Insolent and disrespectful behaviour towards teachers, and the deliberate spread of filth around the castle. Now, suggested punishment…"

His quill scratched on the parchment as he continued to murmur, but Fred and George weren't listening. Fred had caught his twin's eye and jerked his head towards a drawer in the filing cabinet. It was marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous" and for two boys intent on causing havoc, it was really too much to resist. George's eyes widened in understanding and he nodded swiftly. He pulled out another dungbomb, and threw it straight at Filch's feet. Instantly, acrid smoke seeped out and Filch started to cough as it wafted into his mouth and nostrils. He glared at George through streaming eyes. George fixed a look of mock surprise onto his face, trying to buy his brother time by infuriating Filch as much as possible.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot that was there," he said mildly. "Is the smell bothering you? I really do apologise."

He waited as Filch snarled at him, making sure to draw his attention away from the other side of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fred quickly dip one hand into the drawer, stuff something into his bag, and give George a thumbs up signal.

"Well, best be off then. We'll only be getting in the way," he said, then turned and fled, Fred hot on his heels.

Filch was glowering at them from the door of his office. "Don't you think you've got away with this! That's just another crime to add to my list. Oh I do hope I can get out my thumbscrews again…"

They kept running, leaving his shouts behind them, and soon they arrived panting at the portrait hole.

"Phasomilia," Fred gasped, and it swung open. They stumbled into the Common and collapsed into armchairs.

When George had got his breath back, he asked excitedly, "So what did you get? Let's have a look."

"I don't know, I just took the first thing I found. Here, this is it," He took out a piece of parchment and stared at it. His expression gradually changed from flushed exhilaration to confusion, as he turned it over in his hands.

"Well, what's on it?"

"I can't see… Nothing."

"You're sure you didn't just yank that out of your bag now?"

"Yeah, positive," Fred said morosely.

George took the parchment from him, staring intently at each side, willing it to reveal something.

"I can't believe it. A drawer marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous" and the only thing we got out of it was a piece of blank parchment. And probably a detention." Fred kicked the chair in frustration.

"I don't know. If it was in the drawer, there must be something interesting to it."

Fred looked skeptical, but George put the parchment away carefully anyway.

"It's got to be worth keeping. We'll just use it as parchment if we can't work something out, won't we?"

"Still. I bet there were tons of better things if I'd just reached a bit deeper," he said dully. "We'd better get our books. It's Charms soon."

They went upstairs, where Lee was waiting for them.

"So have you two got yourselves a detention yet?" he asked.

"Probably. We made a run for it after George let off another dung bomb but he was still making threats when we left," Fred shrugged.

"Some of that stuff has got to be child cruelty," George winced. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had a hangman's noose ready next time we passed."

Lee looked at them in awe. "That must be a new school record. It's your first day, and already you're faced with possible death?"

"Mum's going to be furious if she finds out," Fred said.

"Not just with us, mind," continued George.

"No, we're well practiced at sticking some of the blame on other people."

"It'll all be Charlie's fault," they both finished in unison.

"Charlie Weasley, I trusted you to keep them out of trouble, and now look at them!" Fred mimicked in a high voice.

"He's used to it. We got him in trouble all the time when we were younger."

By the time they left Gryffindor Tower again to head to Charms, laughing and chatting, the problem of the old piece of parchment had retreated to the back of their minds. If they'd remembered it, they might have noticed that, though it had sunk right to the bottom of George's bag, somehow it had not one crease on it. It was very odd, but they'd get to the bottom of it. They weren't Weasleys for nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Perhaps the first day is a little early for them to make an enemy of Filch and find a certain piece of parchment… But I haven't got enough will power to hold off – I'm too impatient to get this started. I know, I know, I should make a plan and stick to it, but I really can't be bothered. Sorry. Anyway, please review! I always love reading them, and if you have any tips or constructive criticism or whatever, that would be great. And I hope you all had a good Christmas and have a great New Year's Day tomorrow! All the best for 2012 from me.<strong>


	5. Unravelling Secrets

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. It all belongs to JK.**

* * *

><p>The rest of the morning passed quickly. They had Charms, in which tiny little Professor Flitwick had taught them about the Levitation Charm. They'd practiced the incantation, Wingardium Leviosa, and tried out the wand movement with their fingers, which Flitwick had thought was a safe way to learn it, until Matthew Cole, a Hufflepuff boy with spiky blonde hair that seemed to reflect his constant excitement, had accidentally poked his partner hard in the eye with an exaggerated swish. However, despite this mishap, Professor Flitwick had promised them that in a couple of lessons they could try the charm with their wands. Hopefully some of them would manage to levitate a feather.<p>

After lunch they had their first flying lesson. This was easy for the twins – they'd practically grown up on broomsticks, and their brothers, particularly Charlie, hadn't lost a second in correcting their hand positions and technique. Lee, on the other hand, despite his love of Quidditch, couldn't quite get the hang of controlling his broom. He perked up slightly when Madame Hooch told him they were looking for a commentator, and that he could try out for that if he really wanted to play a part in the school Quidditch games.

Transfiguration therefore was the first lesson they had where they got to use their wands. Fred, George and Lee had come in a few minutes late and been forced to sit at the front of the class. This was not generally their favourite place – Professor McGonagall seemed quite intimidating and they didn't want to be caught by her when they were doing something wrong. They'd actually been slightly nervous about being late to her first lesson, but luckily she didn't seem to be there yet.

Fred suddenly became aware of the feeling of eyes boring into his side. He turned to see a tabby cat staring up at him. The spectacle markings round its eyes gave him the strange impression that it was glaring at him.

"Hello, kitty," he said, reaching down to stroke it on the head. "I hope you're nicer than that mothball Filch carries around with him."

There was a collective intake of breath from the class as they watched him. Fred looked up, confused. Alicia Spinnet seemed to be trying to convey a warning to him through eye contact alone.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and then toppled over sideways in shock as the tabby cat grew into a woman.

Professor McGonagall looked down at him coolly. "Five points from Gryffindor, Mr Weasley, for lateness. That applies to you two too," she added, with a sharp nod towards George and Lee. "If you'd seen fit to arrive at my lesson on time, you would have known that I am an Animagus and would, presumably, have refrained from comparing me to Mr Filch's cat, who is just an average domestic feline."

"Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, looking down at the floor and trying to sound suitably apologetic.

McGonagall turned to the class. "Now that you've seen my demonstration, we can move on with the lesson. Unfortunately, you won't be attempting anything as difficult as human transfiguration until Sixth Year. Today, we will be starting by trying to turn a match into a needle. Remember, Transfiguration is a very complicated form of magic, and you are unlikely to achieve anything within the next few lessons. However, it can be dangerous when not performed correctly, so you must listen carefully to my instructions. I am warning you now that if you put yourself or another classmate in danger during one of my lessons, I will not hesitate to punish you severely."

The nervous whispering that started amongst the class was silenced by a swift look from McGonagall, and then she began to write up some complicated looking notes on the theory of Transfiguration. There was a scramble to get out quills and parchment, and the class began to copy it down.

"Listen closely," said McGonagall, when they had finished this. "Now that you know the correct incantations, you should have a good idea of how to perform this spell. I will come around with matches in a minute, and you can try to transfigure them yourself, like this."

She took a match from the box and tapped it lightly with her wand, while saying the words of the spell clearly. She held up the match for the class to see – it had become silver, shiny and pointy.

"Wicked," breathed Lee.

"Thank you, Mr Jordan," Professor McGonagall smiled at him.

The class tried for the rest of the lesson to turn their matches into needles, but with little effect.

"Stupid – match – not – being – a needle!" said a frustrated George, hitting his match with his wand between each word. The match remained stubbornly just that, though George did succeed in turning his desk into a slightly more charred version of a desk. After Professor McGonagall had reversed the damage, she saw fit to remove his match and, to his brother's great amusement, he was forced to watch the others instead. The rest of the Gryffindors found this less funny however, as he lost Gryffindor another five points. George spent the rest of the lesson starting off his Charms homework about the Levitation Charm on a spare bit of parchment and trying to ignore their glares on his back.

* * *

><p>The lessons of the next few days were quite similar to the ones they had had so far. The teachers all seemed reluctant to let them attempt any actual magic, and preferred to concentrate on the theory of the spells they were going to learn instead, in an attempt to minimise the damage caused by over-excited eleven-year-olds learning spells for the first time. However, the twins still held out hope that things would change soon, and on Friday, the lesson they had been looking forward to the most finally arrived.<p>

"Defence Against the Dark Arts next," said Fred happily, taking a bite from a sandwich.

"What do you think we'll be doing?" asked Lee.

"No idea," George said. "Percy says all the different teachers seem to have their own idea of what you should focus on, like magical creatures, or jinxes or whatever."

Fred stared over at the teachers' table, where Professor Lyndon was talking to McGonagall. "I reckon he looks like a curses sort of bloke."

"No, look at those scars. They must be from something cool! Maybe a banshee, I don't know," George commented, glancing over too.

Lyndon stood up, stretched, and ambled casually out of the Great Hall.

"D'you think he'll go straight to the classroom? As much as I hate to be early to lessons, I wouldn't mind getting to this one quickly…"

A few minutes later Fred and George were outside the door of their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, cursing themselves for the sudden willingness to conform to authority that they'd acquired, but eager all the same.

"Shall I look in and see if he's there?" said Fred, bobbing up and down on his toes.

George agreed, and they opened the door a crack. Peering through, they could see Lyndon on the other side of the classroom. His head was in the fireplace, and he was obviously talking to someone. George looked at Fred and the twins came to a silent agreement. They were both wondering what their teacher had to say to someone outside the castle, and their natural curiosity was too strong not to get the better of them. They leaned in closer and strained their ears, so they could just catch what he was saying.

"Yes," he continued, unaware of their presence, "I translated another section. The Runes are quite unusual, but I think I know where to go now. It said something about a mirror on the fourth floor, shouldn't be too hard to find. I've got to go in a few minutes - I have a class to teach, but I'll get back to you soon."

Fred and George hastily drew their heads back and shut the door quietly.

"What was that about?" whispered George. "Who do you think he was talking to?"

"I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore wants him to check something out. He is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"But why would he use Floo powder to talk to Dumbledore? And why wouldn't Dumbledore do it himself?"

"Lazy, I suppose…"

"Who, Dumbledore or Lyndon?"

"Both. Now shut up or he'll hear us talking."

"Later then. Maybe Lee'll have an idea."

They fell silent, and a moment later, Angelina, Alicia and Lee arrived. Soon the conversation turned to the lessons they'd had so far that week, and whether or not they'd actually get to use their wands soon. They cheerfully complained about how much homework they'd been given for Potions earlier that day, despite the fact that they'd only listened to Snape lecturing them on the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane (there wasn't one) and they hadn't even got their cauldrons out.

"Two feet of parchment on the Forgetfulness Potion and we haven't even tried it out yet!" exclaimed Alicia.

"That slimy old git. If it wasn't more effort than the homework, I'd make a Forgetfulness Potion myself and pour it all over his breakfast until he didn't even remember his name, let alone our essays," said Fred threateningly, waving his hand in the air.

George was about to elaborate on his twin's idea, involving specifically what they could tell Snape about himself and his attitude towards the Gryffindors and Slytherins if he couldn't remember anything, when Lyndon opened the door of the classroom and told them they could come in.

When everyone had arrived, he started to speak. "Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts. My name is Professor Lyndon, and it is my job to arm you against the most foul magic you will ever encounter. Today we will be beginning to learn to learn some useful spells-"

Fred smirked at George at this – it appeared he'd been right about Professor Lyndon's approach to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"-that you can use to defend yourself if the need arises. I for one found some of these very handy once in my youth when I was confronted by an angry banshee. We'll be learning more about that kind of thing later on in the term."

At that, George gave a smug grin back at Fred and mouthed, "I told you so."

The lesson passed enjoyably. They wrote down some notes on a few of Lyndon's simpler spells, and then he asked Lee to come to the front to help with his demonstration. Once Lee had been disarmed, petrified and had his legs locked together several times, Lyndon told them to get into pairs to practice.

"Expelliarmus!" cried George.

Fred's wand gave a pathetic little wiggle but made no move to leave his hand. Fred raised one eyebrow.

"Let's see you do better then," George said.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Nothing happened. George sniggered, but took pity on his brother when he saw his put out expression.

"I think I _might _have felt my wand move a bit," he said.

"That was the Leg-Locker Curse, not Expelliarmus."

"Oh yeah. Well, my feet moved then."

Lyndon walked over to them from where he'd been sitting watching. He turned to George. "Try a bit more of a flick, that should work well. And for the Leg-Locker Curse, just concentrate a bit harder," he added to Fred.

By the end of the lesson, Fred and George had both successfully tried the Disarming Charm, and were having a bit more luck on the Leg-Locker Curse. Though Petrificus Totalus was still beyond the majority of the class, and only a few Ravenclaws had become reliable with the other spells, Lyndon seemed pleased with how the lesson had gone. He promised them that they would continue to practice the various jinxes for the next few lessons and then learn a blocking spell until they were ready to try a miniature duel.

* * *

><p>"Ah, the weekend," sighed George. They'd just had their last lesson of the day and were walking back to Gryffindor Tower. "What d'you think so far? Defence Against the Dark Arts was my favourite, just as we predicted."<p>

"You know," said Fred, "I don't even care who Lyndon's been talking to. That lesson was brilliant!"

"I nearly got Lee with the Leg-Locker Curse. Just a bit more powerful and he would've been knocked flat!"

"You weren't meant to be aiming for Lee, you were my partner. But did you see me with Expelliarmus? Just… bam!"

George laughed, and the conversation degenerated into a pretend battle, using fingers instead of wands and making buzzing noises to imitate spells. This continued right the way into the Common Room. It eventually reached a spectacular climax, in which George was dying an elaborate death after being struck by, strangely enough, Wingardium Leviosa. He was just waving one hand dramatically in the air and telling a group of Second Years he'd never spoken to before to avenge him, when Charlie tapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't rest until you've hunted down- Hi, Charlie."

"There's a letter for you two from home. I think it was meant to come during breakfast, but apparently Errol collapsed in the pumpkin patch. Hagrid gave him to me when I was talking to him earlier."

It seemed their parents would have sent a letter earlier, but they were worried that Errol, the ball of feathers and fluff that they called an owl, wouldn't survive the start of year rush. Their mother went on to urge them to do their homework and to try not to get into trouble, because if she got just _one_ letter from Hogwarts, they'd have a Howler by the next morning even if Errol collapsed in a jug of pumpkin juice afterwards. In a slightly unnerving change of tone, she then told Fred and George that Ron and Ginny were missing them and she couldn't wait to see them for Christmas.

"Us? Get into trouble? She must be joking…" snorted Fred.

"Clearly she's forgotten what little angels you are," said Charlie, who'd been reading the letter over George's shoulder. "Can you _try _to get your homework done though? It'll be my neck on the line if they get any complaints about you."

The twins gave him identical cat-like smirks.

"We plan on using that to our full advantage, brother dearest," said Fred.

"Maybe we'll do it just this week though," George conceded.

Charlie sighed in relief. He didn't want to be held responsible for his brothers receiving a detention, especially not this early on in the year. George was now rummaging through his bag.

"I started my Charms homework on Monday in Transfiguration, but I couldn't be bothered to finish it," he explained. "Oh, here it is."

He pulled out an old piece of parchment from the depths of his bag and unrolled it. He turned it over, frowning. "I could've sworn this was the right bit…"

"Isn't that the parchment we nicked off Filch?" said Fred, peering over his shoulder.

"You nicked it off…" Charlie trailed off weakly. Apparently his parents had left it a little late to warn the twins off getting into trouble. He shook his head and pulled himself together. "Fine, do what you like, but just remember, I didn't see anything." He walked off to join a few of his friends who were beckoning him over for a game of Exploding Snap, realising that it was better to leave them to whatever mayhem they were going to cause and just play the fool afterwards. After all, they weren't about to be put off their mischief by their parents and an older brother, so there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Fred and George were oblivious to Charlie's distress. They had their heads together and they were busy studying the old piece of parchment.

"You're sure you wrote it on this?" asked Fred, instinctively lowering his voice to avoid being heard.

"Yeah, certain."

George pulled out his wand and hesitated, unsure of what he was meant to do. He tapped the parchment. Nothing happened, but he thought he could see some sort of yellowish glow ripple across the sheet. Fred did the same and said, "Revelio". Again, there was nothing except the glow. Then again, Fred wasn't sure he'd even got the spell right.

"We could try writing on it again, just to check that it disappears," suggested George.

"Best idea we've got."

Fred took out his quill and wrote:

_Hi, parchment. Don't mind us, just do your stuff and vanish this writing, will you? No big deal, just do the same thing as you did to George's homework._

The twins sat and looked at it.

"You do know it could have taken my homework all week to disappear," said George eventually, after about two minutes of sinking into boredom while staring at the piece of parchment. It was resolutely showing Fred's words, which were shining with the still damp ink.

"Yeah, but I'd kind of hoped that if we talked to it directly it might do something. I mean, it might have just pretended to be a normal bit of parchment until you left it alone and it could go back to being… whatever it is. Let's try again."

His ears had flushed pink slightly, hearing how strange this all sounded, but he dipped his quill in the ink bottle again and wrote some more:

_We know you're there. You don't have to hide from us. Please tell us what you are… Honestly, there are no hard feelings about the vanished homework. It's not like we care about that anyway._

The words shone for a moment, and then (Fred grabbed George's arm painfully) they seemed to dissolve away. New words appeared in their place, spreading out from the centre of the page in spidery black handwriting.

_While Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs appreciate the fact that they are in the presence of mischief-makers, flouting the rules as they do so so often themselves, they regret that the secret of the Marauders' Map is not given to just anyone._

George nearly knocked over the ink bottle in his haste to grab Fred's quill and write a reply.

_So this is a map?_

_That is correct. If you really are worthy of our secrets, you will work out how to access them. Remember, we're only a wand tap away…_

At that, the ink faded away, leaving just a blank piece of parchment again. Fred and George stared at each other in astonishment.

"So we have to tap it and say something?" said Fred, finally.

"Looks like it." George was still numb from the shock of what had just happened. "Come on, let's try again."

They continued to write on the parchment for the whole evening, but they accomplished nothing. Clearly the map, or whatever it was, had decided that it had said enough. When they went to bed that night, they had almost convinced themselves that it was simply some sort of cruel trick, and so, when Fred woke the next morning and immediately dived for the parchment lying on his bedside table, he fully expected it to be covered in their writing, begging it to give them another clue. However, it was just as blank as when they had first taken it from Filch's office. He lay back on his bed and sighed, holding the parchment over his head. He had absolutely no idea how they were meant to figure this out, but that was exactly what he intended to do.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Well this is starting to pick up a bit now… Two whole things going on, look at that! Now back to reality. Again, I'm not sure when I'll next be able to update, on account of exams and all those horrible school-type things going on, but I will do as soon as possible! A huge thank you goes to Say-theLastWord for reviewing the last chapter, and I'd love some more reviews for this one! Virtual cookies or whatever to anyone who does. Yum. (What a pathetic attempt at gaining reviews. I sicken myself.) Anyway, I'll hopefully see you soon with more from Fred and George.<strong>


	6. The Marauder's Map

**Here you go – another update. I'm sorry this took so long!**

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling's. Not mine.**

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><p>The first chance they got that weekend, Fred and George told Lee what they'd discovered about the parchment they'd stolen from Filch. The three of them spent several hours sitting in the Common Room tapping the parchment and attempting to guess the codeword. However, all they got out of it was several insults from Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs about their lack of intelligence, and some strange looks from the other Gryffindors, who couldn't for the life of them figure out why a little First Year with long black dreadlocks had just yelled, "Open Sesame!" and hit what they decided must be his homework with his wand. This was just one in a long line of phrases, threats and pleads that Fred, George and Lee had tried, but nothing, from, "Insert password here," to, "If you don't open right this bloody minute you're going straight in the fire where you belong," had worked, and they were rapidly losing hope.<p>

"Apple pie," said Fred.

He set about pummelling the map with his wand, inducing nothing but a sarcastic comment from Mr Padfoot.

"How would that have worked anyway?" George admonished him.

"I don't know, food's just on my mind. Can't we go and have dinner?"

Lee's stomach gave a loud rumble, emphasising Fred's point, and George quickly conceded, hungry himself. He dashed upstairs and put the map on a bedside table so they could try again later, and then the three of them set off. They reached the Great Hall and helped themselves to food, and a few minutes later Percy Weasley sat down next to Fred.

"I hope you've been keeping out of trouble," he said, looking over the top of his glasses at the twins, with what he clearly hoped was a suitably stern expression. "Have you done your homework yet?"

"Why would you say that, brother dear?" said Fred, airily, reaching over the table for the jug of pumpkin juice. "Don't you trust us?"

"We already promised Charlie we would this week anyway," sighed George.

"Yeah, how boring," continued Fred. "Of course, we are encouraged by the fact that we have already met some lovely teachers-"

"And members of staff-"

"Our personal favourite being the marvellous Mr Filch-"

"Who offered to show us his thumbscrews-"

"In return for us showing _him_ our dungbombs."

Percy by this point had his head in his hands, and seemed to be trying to ward off thoughts of Mrs Weasley's wrath if she discovered the twins had already got themselves in trouble. However, it appeared they had somehow managed to escape detention so far. It was true that they'd had a lucky escape – it looked as though Filch had decided that he'd rather catch Fred and George in the act of some terrible misdemeanour than punish them straight away. Every so often, they'd see him at the end of a corridor, looking wide-eyed and gleeful, and he'd quickly scurry off around the corner or behind a suit of armour, hoping that they hadn't noticed him, and wait to catch them red-handed. In fact, they were rather enjoying talking about him and Mrs Norris in loud voices, while avoiding saying anything incriminating and watching him bristle in annoyance.

"And I have a special treat planned for Professor Snape," announced Fred, happily.

George and Lee looked over at Fred in surprise. Fred gave them a wink. He didn't want to discuss the full details of his plan in front of Percy, but his eyes had lit up in a way that was very characteristic of the Weasley twins, and which meant that they had a plan for imminent mischief. Snape seemed like a perfect target for this. Fred and George had taken an instant disliking towards him after he took five points from Alicia Spinnet in their first lesson simply because she couldn't tell him the ingredients of a particular potion, and another ten from Lee for pointing out that they'd only been at the school for a matter of days and hadn't memorised their textbooks.

About half an hour Fred, George and Lee were back in the Gryffindor common room.

"What's this about Snape?" asked George excitedly.

"I haven't got it totally figured out yet," replied Fred slowly.

George and Lee kept pestering him, but Fred wouldn't tell them anything, and kept insisting that he needed more time to plan completely before he filled them in on his ideas. He pulled out his Potions homework, primarily to annoy his brother and friend. However, thinking about what he was starting to plot, it seemed a good idea to keep himself out of Snape's bad books for the time being.

"Where do you find a bezoar?" said Fred. He was now lying on his stomach on the floor and kicking his legs in the air. There was a pot of ink and an empty roll of parchment in front of him.

"Not telling." George crossed his arms and glared at his twin.

"Oi, Angelina! Where d'you find a bezoar?"

"Don't tell him!" shrieked George and Lee at the same time.

"Goat's stomach," she answered, looking at George and Lee in confusion. The two boys were now groaning. Fred sniggered at them, and George aimed a kick at his side.

* * *

><p>The rest of the weekend passed without much event. Fred and George spent Sunday morning watching Charlie drill his new tactic ideas into the Gryffindor Quidditch team and making bets on how long it would take them to pulverise the Slytherins in the upcoming match. When they were walking back to the castle a few hours later, ready for lunch, they came to the general consensus that Charlie, though he was currently muddy and battered from training, was a good enough Seeker to catch the Snitch within ten minutes.<p>

"The Slytherin Captain looks like he's taken a few too many Bludgers to the head, if you ask me." Fred nodded wisely at George.

George crossed his eyes and twisted his face into the most ape-like expression he could manage in an attempt to illustrate Fred's point, but then stopped abruptly, looking over at the trees nearby. "Look who's decided to join the party," he commented.

Pucey was stalking towards them, flanked by a couple of his friends. "I couldn't help overhearing your discussion," he said coolly, eyes flickering between the three other First Years.

"That must be a problem," said Fred in a concerned voice.

"You really should learn to block your ears if you don't even _want _to hear something. We wouldn't want you going deaf if there happened to be, say, a loud explosion," George continued, placing a particular emphasis on the word "explosion".

"One that we create."

George rolled his eyes at his twin. Fred never was one for subtlety.

"You'll have my brother, _the Slytherin captain_, after you if you try," said Pucey threateningly. Fred's eyes widened and his face stretched into a grin.

"Oooh, it all makes sense now! I can really see the resemblance. So tell me, is it your mother or father who's the troll?"

By this point the twins were starting to look rather like Cheshire-cats-in-training. Pucey on the other hand, had turned an unattractive shade of purple, his mouth had falling open, serving only to prove the twins' point, and he had grabbed his wand out of his pocket.

"Petrificus Totalus," he yelled. Nothing happened.

"Should've tried a simpler spell. That one's especially hard to master if the lowest exam grade is actually named after your species… Not that we're ones to judge of course," said George sympathetically. He stepped over to Pucey and took his wrist. "Here, try giving it more of a flick."

Pucey yanked his hand away and gave Fred and George a look of hostility.

"My brother will beat yours to a pulp in the Quidditch match, then you'll see." At that he stormed away and headed across the grounds. George scowled after him, clearly annoyed that his "lesson" hadn't gone down too well.

"Don't worry, mate, you're just not cut out to be a teacher," said Fred carelessly, kicking a pebble along the ground as the two continued back to the castle again.

George pouted. "What do you mean? Surely you know that I'd be a perfect model of hard work and rule-following for the students?"

Their lighthearted banter continued right into the Great Hall, where they met up with Lee. They spent the rest of the day out in the grounds, throwing twigs into the lake to try to tempt the Giant Squid into emerging, and enjoying the last bits of sunshine before autumn really set in.

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><p>In fact, Monday came all too quickly for the twins. Then again, their lessons were starting to become more interesting now that they'd covered some theory in most of their subjects. They were currently sitting in Charms, where Professor Flitwick had just told them they were ready to try Wingardium Leviosa properly.<p>

"Wingardium Leviosa," George said, carefully swishing and flicking his wand. He squinted at his feather. It was still sitting on the desk, though he fancied he had seen it twitch a bit. He tried again, putting a bit more emphasis into the words. This time he felt a slight pressure on the wand and the feather rose a few inches above his desk. He gasped in shock and the feather promptly remembered about gravity and fell back down at his momentary lapse in concentration.

Fred soon managed the same as his brother, but try as they might, neither of them could manage to prolong the feather's levitation. Lee however was having even less luck than the two gingers. He had just dropped his wand while trying to flick it, and now seemed to be having a very one-sided staring contest with his feather, which, though a very small one, would not lift into the air. Professor Flitwick bobbed up next to him.

"How are you getting along, Mr Jordan? Can I see you try?"

Lee looked up at him gloomily. "I'll give it a go." He gave his feather a terrifying glare and raised his wand, preparing either to make it levitate or blast it into oblivion. Then however he seemed to have a sudden change of heart. He lowered his wand and instead picked the feather up and held it above his head.

"I'm not sure that's the best technique…" Flitwick cut in worriedly.

"Bear with me, and prepare to be astonished," Lee said with a small bow. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Sure enough, the feather was rising up into the air. Admittedly, it was jerking around in the air instead of hovering in one place, but nonetheless, it _was_ in the air. Flitwick had his full attention on the feather, apparently mesmerised by its little jig above them. Fred and George, however, had been studying Lee. What appeared to have started as a steady stream of air upwards as Lee exhaled gently, keeping his head directly beneath the feather, was now a desperate attempt by the eleven-year-old to blow hard enough to keep the feather up but to somehow do it quietly.

"Well done!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. He turned back towards Lee, beaming. A look of confusion came over his face as he saw the boy puffing into the air. "What are you doing, Mr Jordan?"

"Oh, I just do that when I'm concentrating," lied Lee shamelessly.

"Well that was very impressive for a first attempt. Five points to Gryffindor," said Flitwick happily, apparently satisfied with the excuse. He had to have seen stranger - Fred and George knew that Bill for one had a tendency to cross his eyes whenever he was attempting a particularly difficult spell, and he wasn't the only Weasley with an odd habit like that. Fred had once seen Arthur casting a spell at a Muggle car from between his own legs, though that was probably more for Fred's benefit than his own.

* * *

><p>"And that, gentlemen, is how you make a feather fly," Lee said cheerily, as he left the classroom with Fred and George at the end of the lesson.<p>

"That's cheating."

"It's not cheating, it's initiative," Lee insisted.

"Yeah, well your feather looked like it came off a hummingbird – you couldn't do that with one of ours or you'd asphyxiate yourself," George continued.

"Mine looked like it was from an albatross or something, did you see how big it was? Oops, sorry, Angelina." Fred had flung his arms back wildly to demonstrate, and had accidentally hit her in the face.

"Anyway, you're lumped with a textbook to levitate now, and it's your own fault for pretending you could do it."

"At least I got us some points," Lee said mildly.

"True, that."

"Listen, I'll meet you two up in our room, I've got to go and do something," said Fred after a pause.

"What sort of something would that be?" asked George, instantly suspicious.

"Something to benefit our dear friend Professor Snape. I'll tell you when I get back, I promise." He held his hands up against the sudden onslaught of threats and pleading he was faced with from George and Lee, who had forgotten to beg him to tell them his plan when their lessons had started up again.

"I swear by Merlin's beard that if you don't explain every single detail of your idea the second you get back, I _will _crush Cockroach Clusters into your food every meal, and as soon as I learn how to I'll enchant a picture of Great Aunt Muriel to follow you around making kissing sounds," George yelled after his twin's retreating back. Fred waved in acknowledgement of his potential torture as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

"How many detentions do you reckon we'll get for whatever he wants us to do?" mused Lee.

"Probably every day for the rest of year… I'm normally his filter and we still get in loads of trouble. I dread to think what he's plotting," George grinned.

* * *

><p>A little while later, George and Lee were back in their dormitory playing a game of Wizard's Chess.<p>

"No! No, I meant _that _bishop, not the other one," Lee was yelling.

The bishop in question turned its head towards him and opened its mouth, and started a tirade about how his instructions weren't detailed enough and how it hadn't wanted to play for him in the first place anyway, but was quickly dragged off the board by George's knight. As George was celebrating his brief victory, Fred entered the room clutching a large book, his bag and his wand. The game was forgotten.

"So where were you anyway?" asked George, jumping up.

"The library, dimwit. Where else would I get this?" he replied, waving the book in the air.

George pretended to faint and staggered around the room. "Why the bloody hell were you in a library? You aren't going all Percy-like on us, are you?"

"No need to fret, my dear fellow," Fred said, in a passable imitation of Percy. "I don't intend to start following rules and working myself to death now. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

As he said this, he put down his things on the bedside table.

"So what's this idea then?" said Lee. "Fred?"

Fred showed no signs of moving. He was frozen in shock, staring at the bit of parchment that had been left on the table since the weekend. "Come and see this," he choked out. George and Lee swiftly joined him, and gasped themselves. Ink was spreading across the parchment, marking out complicated passageways, labels and arrows. An elegant script was forming across the top of the page.

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map…"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Like I said up at the top, I'm really sorry about the delay in updating. Life's been too busy to do as much writing as I'd like to (and it didn't help that I changed my mind about what I wanted to do with this chapter half way through and had to start again) but I'll try to get the updates out more regularly from now on. <strong>

**I didn't get any reviews last chapter, despite the long wait, which means that the blue button just down below this is now very hungry and really wants you to click it. Anyone want to make up for the lack of reviews? Sigh. My attempts at getting reviews get more pathetic every chapter. Seriously though, I'd love to hear what you thought – I want to make this story what you lot want it to be, so I need your feedback! Please? **


	7. Billiwig Wings

**dumbledore-plays-the-piano – Thank you for reviewing, especially if you don't have much time at the moment! I know all too well the feeling of being too busy to do anything, haha.**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. This isn't mine, blah-de-blah.**

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><p>"What… the bloody hell…?" breathed George. He was then whisked promptly away from the bedside table by an elated Fred.<p>

"We've done it! We got the password!" he yelled, his face flooding with colour as they both toppled onto the floor from their momentum, and ended up lying in a tangled heap.

"What exactly did you say to it anyway?" asked George, extracting himself from his brother's limbs and propping his chin up on one hand.

"I think it was, 'I solemnly swear I am not up to good.' No, that doesn't sound quite right," he said. "It doesn't matter though, we'll easily work it out again."

"It was 'up to _no_ good'," Lee told them from where he had remained standing. He was studying the map carefully. "Come and have a proper look at this."

The twins hurriedly picked themselves up off the floor and went to stand next to their friend. They looked down at the map. In his earlier state of shock and excitement, Fred had failed to noticed all the details, but now he could clearly see just how useful this "bit of old parchment" was going to be to them. Black ink carefully marked out all the corridors, rooms and grounds of Hogwarts, and there even appeared to be several passages they'd never seen before. Fred and George watched in fascination as a staircase on the second floor swung across the page.

However, this wasn't what was going to be the most useful to them, because the map was also swarming with tiny labelled dots, moving around the castle. Fred squinted. He could just make out Dumbledore, whose dot was next to Professor McGonagall's in the staff room. Filch and Mrs Norris were both on the third floor, moving towards each other, and Snape with in his office in the dungeons. They could even see their own three dots in the First Year Gryffindor boys' dormitory.

"Look, it even has Peeves and the ghosts," said George, trying to trace the path of Peeve's dot in the Charms classroom, which was bouncing erratically off the room's walls.

"Filch isn't going to be happy, he's probably making a huge mess."

Sure enough, after a few minutes of watching the map carefully, Filch's dot made its way towards the Charms classroom, turned, and zigzagged away towards the staff room, probably in search of Dumbledore. Fred and George could practically feel him wheezing and muttering in outrage just looking at the map.

"You know, this is going to make my plan a whole lot easier," announced Fred, looking at George, who shook himself back into his senses at the mention of his twin's mysterious _idea_.

"So what is this trick we've been waiting so long to hear about?"

"Watch and learn, George, watch and learn."

Fred pulled his book out from beneath the Marauder's Map where it had been abandoned earlier. It was entitled _Common Mistakes in Potion-Making and How to Avoid Them _and was written, like their school textbook, by Arsenius Jigger.

"Sit," Fred said, pointing his finger at George and Lee in turn and gesturing towards his bed. They both obeyed, and Fred began to pace back and forth in front of them, like, he hoped, a general commanding his troops.

"Gentlemen," he continued, twiddling his imaginary moustache with one hand, the book tucked beneath his other arm. "I have called you here today to discuss the potential defeat of our common enemy, the so-called "Professor" Snape, who is, as I am sure you will agree, a foul stain upon the rest of humanity and-"

"Get to the point," cut in George. Fred turned to face him and pursed his lips in a fashion very like his mother. Seeing that his brother still looked unperturbed, he sighed and dropped onto the bed between George and Lee.

"Right, you remember last Potions lesson?"

"Vaguely…"

"Well, I listened to the start because I wanted to if it was going to be decent or not."

"I'm guessing you switched off pretty quickly then," said Lee, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, but before I did, he said something about how we'd better not be a group of halfwits because the first potion we were making should be simple, but can easily go wrong. And cause havoc, death, chaos."

"He said the havoc bit?" asked George, his face lighting up, looking for all the world as though Christmas had come early.

"Well, no. But it was implied."

"So reading between the lines here," said Lee, "You want to find out what the most potentially prank-worthy mistakes are for this potion, and make sure that we make them?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The potion's some kind of sedative I think, shouldn't be hard to find."

Fred opened up the book and riffled through its pages until he found the potion he was looking for – the Calming Draught. It emerged that there were several easy mistakes that could be made accidentally-on-purpose if they wanted to annoy Snape. The simplest was to add three crushed billiwig wings after brewing the potion, which would produce a Dizzying Draught instead.

"Oh yes! That would be amazing. It would be wonderful." George's eyes became unfocussed and a grin slid onto his face, as he watched the Snape of his imagination stagger around the dungeon, tripping into people's half-finished potions and erupting into boils, or sprouting hair from each of his cheeks, or growing tusks like a walrus, or… The list could go on forever.

"It will be beautiful," agreed Fred.

"I'm sure our dear friend Arsenius would be scandalised at the use to which we're putting his book," said George happily. There was a glint in his eye that Percy would probably have described as 'demonic'.

Lee looked from one to the other of them and sighed. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No, I don't think so… Hang on, do you mean we should feed it to the Slytherins too? Because that's actually a great idea, thanks, Lee!"

"I mean," he said slowly, as if he was talking to a couple of over-excited toddlers, "Snape isn't going to waltz up to you and say, 'Oh look, this potion's the wrong colour and consistency, why don't I taste it and see what you've done wrong?' I'm not saying we can't do it, just that we might have to think how."

Fred and George both stared at Lee reproachfully. George's face fell as the pictures in his mind burst like a bubble.

"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands. "We're just going to have to spike his drink instead."

"There is another minor problem though," said Lee, rummaging around in his stack of potions equipment.

"What now?"

"We don't actually have billiwig wings."

"Damn." Fred hit the bed in annoyance.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, the twins were both sitting on one arm of an armchair in the Gryffindor Common room, staring fixedly at the portrait hole. They seemed to be undeterred by the nervous looks they were being given by everyone who entered.<p>

"Where _are _they?" asked Fred. "What's the point in having two brothers at Hogwarts if neither of them bloody show up when you need them?"

George huffed and crossed his arms, swinging his legs back and forth restlessly. Soon, however, the portrait hole swung open again and Percy Weasley clambered through.

"Percy, hey, Perce!"

"Finally, how long can it take?"

Percy looked in horror at his two younger brothers barrelling their way towards him, and glanced back wistfully at the portrait hole. Seeing it blocked by a pair of Sixth Years coming through, he heaved a sigh and surrendered himself to fate, whatever it had in store for him.

"What do you want?"

"Billiwig wings. We need to borrow some." George stared up at him expectantly.

"Why do you want billiwig wings? I don't have any; they aren't on the ingredients list for students."

Fred pouted. "But we _need_ them," he whined.

"You can't need them. We don't make any potions with them, you probably misread 'stings' as 'wings'. Go and look over the instructions again. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He pushed past the twins, leaving them to trudge back up to their dormitory again, to meet the waiting Lee.

"How in the name of Merlin's beard is it a common mistake to add an ingredient we aren't even _allowed _in school?" George finished off. The twins had been relating back to Lee everything that Percy had told them.

"Well, we only have one choice left, I suppose," Lee said.

"And that would be…?" Fred prompted him.

"Snape has everything in his private store cupboard, doesn't he? We're just going to have to sneak in there."

"Genius," breathed Fred and George together.

* * *

><p>"Be quiet, or Mrs Norris will be here before you can say 'Dizzying Draught," whispered George, as Fred's bag hit the floor outside the portrait hole with a bang. It was midnight. Fred had firmly insisted that they might as well just steal the billiwig wings that night and be done with it, and now the twins and Lee were standing outside the Fat Lady's portrait, ready to sneak down to the dungeons, where Snape kept all his private potions ingredients.<p>

'Dizzying Draught, Dizzying Draught, Dizzying Draught," murmured Fred. "Ha." He quickly scooped up his bag and pulled the Marauder's Map from its depths, squinting at the names on the parchment by the light of his wand. Satisfied that their route was unguarded, he beckoned the other two to follow him. He set off quickly, walking on the balls of his feet to make sure he didn't make too much noise, with George and Lee close behind him. They continued in this fashion, continually checking the map to make sure that the path was still clear, without mishap.

After a few minutes, they reached the Potions classroom in the dungeons. The three of them crossed the room and Fred reached for the handle on Snape's store of ingredients. He turned it sharply, but was met only with a rattle as it hit the lock and a disapproving tut from a portrait of an old Potions teacher, who had woken up when they entered.

"Here, let me try," murmured George, elbowing Fred out of the way to yank the door handle himself. Each of them tried in turn to get the door open, but without having a key or knowing the correct spell to unlock doors, it was useless – they were just running more and more of a risk of being caught the louder they got.

"I swear I'm going to learn how to pick locks the moment we get back to Gryffindor Tower," growled Fred through gritted teeth.

"There's a spell… I swear I've heard it before," said Lee. "Hello Hamora? I can't remember!"

The wizard in the portrait on the wall next to them opened his eyes again and glared at them. "Could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Sorry, sir," Lee replied. "Hang on, you don't know where Snape keeps the key, do you?"

"He keeps the key with him, so students like you can't break into his supplies. And with good reason!"

Lee sighed and reached over to rattle the door handle again. The wizard clamped his hands over his ears, looking daggers at the three Gryffindors. "Give it up, please!"

"We'll leave you alone to sleep once we've got what we need," said George in a measured tone. "Couldn't you just tell us the incantation?"

Fred and George watched the wizard weigh up his options in his head. On the one hand, he could tell them how to unlock the door, and then they'd go away and leave him in peace. But on the other hand, a few decades ago, this had been _his _potions store, and these would have been _his _students stealing _his _ingredients. Severus would never forgive him if he knew he'd been the one to give them access to it… But then he yawned, and his resolve shattered. His eyes flicked from side to side quickly, checking that nobody was within hearing range.

"How dare you suggest such a thing, boy? I would never tell you that you use the spell 'Alohomora' to unlock doors," he said in a strict voice.

"Thank you." Fred stuck his thumbs up, and then walked over to the door to test out the spell.

"Oh look, I said it by accident, nobody can hold me responsible. Nobody can even know they didn't already know the spell by themselves," muttered the wizard to himself, with a smug smile.

At this point, the door swung open and Fred punched the air in triumph.

"I'll keep watch for you, if you like," said Lee, holding out his hand for the map. Fred handed it over to him and walked into the store cupboard, George hot on his heels.

They stared upwards in amazement. Once you entered the cupboard, it was really more like a small room. The shelves were piled high with jars of ingredients, all labelled in Snape's immaculate handwriting – beetle eyes, bat spleens, chopped nettles. Fred and George glanced at each other, and then began to search. Eventually, a jar at the back of the middle shelf caught George's eye. It was mostly empty, but at the bottom there remained a few fragile insect-like wings, which glinted an iridescent silvery colour. Sure enough, when he checked the label on the jar, it read 'Billiwig Wings'. As he and Fred were pulling the other containers aside, they heard an urgent whisper from Lee outside.

"Fred! George! Filch is coming."

"Where is he? Can we get out?" asked Fred.

"I don't think so; he's cut off our exit. I'll have to head him off – meet you back in our dormitory." Not wanting Filch to find it, Lee chucked the Marauder's Map into the store cupboard, and then the twins heard his receding footsteps as he ran from the dungeon.

George quickly scooped up the remaining billiwig wings and passed them over to Fred, who stuffed them into his bag along with the map. They heard a muffled thump from outside the dungeon, followed by a grunt from Filch – evidently, Lee had run straight into him.

"Students out of bed," hollered Filch. "Which House are you in, boy?"

"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!" Lee replied. Fred and George grinned at each other, imagining Lee's proud smile.

"Well you'll need that courage if Professor McGonagall lets me use my whips on you. Come with me."

"Only if you can catch me." They heard Lee dash away from the dungeon, followed by a wheezing Filch.

"Looks like the coast is clear," smiled Fred.

"Yeah. Thank you, Lee…" George agreed.

Lee had indeed managed to attract all the attention away to another part of the school. The twins didn't even see any ghosts when they were on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. When they'd woken up the Fat Lady, and she had let them into the Common Room (despite being rather grumpy about it) they went straight up to their dormitory, wrapped the billiwig wings in a piece of tissue paper and put them carefully in with their other potions things. After a while, they were joined by Lee, who spared them just enough time before falling asleep to tell them that they'd better do something spectacular because he'd gone and got detention with McGonagall next Saturday for them.

* * *

><p>Their first opportunity to do something spectacular came that Wednesday – their first Potions lesson since they'd nicked the billiwig wings.<p>

"As I told you on Friday," said Snape, "Today is the day that we will be making Calming Draughts. I don't for one minute expect you all to succeed, being the dunderheads that you undoubtedly are." His eyes rested on Fred and George, whom he'd caught playing Exploding Snape underneath their desk just a few minutes earlier. "But if we're lucky, a few of you might manage to follow the instructions correctly and produce something half decent." He swished his wand at the blackboard in the corner. Words blossomed over it in white chalk. "The instructions are on the board. Begin."

Fred and George pulled out their cauldron and ingredients and set to work as quickly as they could. Just a few minutes into the lesson, George was chopping a dandelion root as evenly as he could while Fred feverishly stirred their boiling potion. Lee was working with Angelina Johnson. He'd been turning his head to check the twins' progress so often that he'd totally forgotten about his own potion. Eventually Angelina, who had been growing gradually more irritable from trying to do all the work herself, tugged Lee's arm up behind his back and growled at him that if he didn't start helping her, he'd find himself in the Hospital Wing with a broken arm and whatever their potion had become so far all over his face. At this point, Snape swooped over to their desk to find out why said potion was now billowing clouds of pink smoke after being left unattended for too long. Fred and George, who had been watching Angelina's threats with interest, realised they probably ought to get back to their own Calming Draught.

Luckily, it seemed to be in a better shape than their friends', so they added the last couple of ingredients (excluding the billiwig wings) and left it to brew for thirty minutes. They passed the first fifteen or so minutes of this time sitting on either side of Lee, taking turns to prod him, and arguing with each other about who got to be best man at his wedding to Angelina, while Lee protested. This continued until Angelina took it upon herself to shut all three of them up.

"What is this racket?" Snape demanded, roused by Angelina's yelling. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Learn to work out your differences in a more mature manner – you're not seven-year-olds. Weasleys, why aren't you working on your own potion?"

"It's over there, sir," said Fred, pointing.

Their potion was indeed sitting on the next desk, bubbling quietly. It had now reached the correct shade of lavender for a Calming Draught. As soon as it started to foam and spark, it would be ready to cool and, in their case, add the crushed billiwig wings. Snape looked at it. His lip curled in distaste, but, finding nothing to criticise, he moved on to a Slytherin table without saying anything. Potions appeared to be one of the twins' strong points.

"Have you got the wings?" Fred asked his brother quietly.

"Yeah, they're here."

George reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew the wings, wrapped in their tissue paper. He pulled the mortar and pestle underneath the desk, put three wings into it and set to grinding them into a fine powder. As he was doing this, their potion reached the correct stage. Fred removed the cauldron full of hissing purple liquid from the flame, and George chucked in the powder. Instantly the potion began to fizz and lightened to a silvery-grey colour. A kind of mist poured off it, dissolving into blue clouds, which made Fred and George feel slightly light-headed. Clearly they had made their potion right. Fred produced a little glass bottle from his pocket, which he filled with Dizzying Draught.

"Please collect a flask from the front of the room, bottle up some of your potion and label it with your names. Then put the bottle in the box on my desk, and I'll give you your marks on Friday's lesson," rang out Snape's voice from behind his desk. Fred and George looked at their potion.

"Somehow I think he might recognise it…" said Fred.

Though their potion had now cooled and stopped giving off the blue vapour, it had a distinctive mirror-like quality. Fred threw a sidelong glance at Snape, who was examining one of the Slytherins' potion samples, and quickly chucked in another dandelion root. The Dizzying Draught congealed into a lumpy grey-green sludge. Fred nodded, contented, and they forced a bit of the potion into one of Snape's bottles and went to hand it in.

"What _is _this, Weasleys?" asked Snape lazily when he saw their concoction.

"Di- Calming Draught, sir," George answered innocently.

"Tell me, can you read? The instructions clearly stated that only thirty minutes of brewing were required. And I expect you stirred it afterwards as well. I can't say I expected any better. Your older brothers are dismal at Potions too."

Snape's lecture was interrupted by Lee and Angelina, who had just arrived gingerly holding a flask of something luminous and pink.

"If you don't mind, sir, I think I'll just leave it here, it's just I think it's starting to burn through the bottle," said Lee very quickly, dropping the flask into the box and wiping his hands vigorously on his robes.

"This is all your fault," muttered Angelina to him out of the corner of her mouth.

Snape's mouth opened in outrage, and the twins took the opportunity to slip out, giving Lee a quick wink on their way.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry, sorry! I know this has taken me forever, and I'd completely forgive you if you want to hit me in the face with a chair, or something even heavier and more painful. It's the same old excuses really – the teachers have been piling work onto us like there's a national shortage of marking and they're trying to stockpile it… And when I finally wrote this, my internet connection died for a few days and I couldn't upload it. Sorry again. I'll try to get the next chapter up more quickly. On another note, I've discovered I really enjoy writing Potions lessons. Please review! As always, I'd love some kind of feedback, however short, long, anonymous or signed you want it to be.<strong>


	8. Sneaking into Hogsmeade

**Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed since last time! I love you all.**

**Disclaimer: All credit goes to JK. Unless you have a complaint, in which case it's probably (OK, definitely) my fault.**

* * *

><p>"Right, let's see this potion then," said Lee, as soon as he sat down for lunch next to George.<p>

"What kept you so long?" Fred asked him.

"Snape. He felt the need to tell Angelina and me how terrible we are at Potions. He was annoyed because _you_ two managed to escape him." Lee narrowed his eyes at Fred as menacingly as he could. "Angelina was even worse than him though. Thank Merlin she's not a teacher, she'd be terrifying… Anyway, where's this bloody potion?"

"Keep your hair on, mate, it's here." Fred pulled a small glass vial from his pocket, silver liquid shining inside it.

Lee let out a low whistle, his eyes widening in awe. "Blimey… You actually did it," he muttered in an unusually quiet whisper. Then, sounding more like his usual self, he continued. "So when do we feed it to Slime-ball?"

"Soon as possible, I suppose," replied Fred happily, starting to rise out of his seat. "Why not now?"

"Wait a second," George said, putting one hand on his brother's head and forcing him back down behind the table.

"What?" Fred gave George a reproachful look.

"Don't you think he might work something out if he suffers the exact effects of a Dizzying Draught ten minutes after our Potions lesson? I know this isn't exactly a phrase we like to live our lives by, but perhaps just for once, it's better to be safe than sorry…"

"Of course it isn't, there's no fun in that! When's it ever better to be safe than sorry?"

"Now?"

The twins argued over this for a good five minutes, until Lee tapped Fred, who was now somehow in the middle of a rant about George's supposed development of Percy-like tendencies, on the shoulder and told them that Snape had already left anyway.

"Now see what you've done," said Fred, crossing his arms and mock-glaring at his brother.

"Come on, at least we've got more of an element of surprise."

"There's something to be said for that, I suppose," Lee agreed.

Fred scooped up the vial of potion and put it carefully back in his bag, making sure that no teachers could see what he was doing. "OK, we'll try again later," he said. "Maybe at dinner?"

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for the twins, the opportunity to try again at dinner didn't come. Neither did it arrive at breakfast the next day, or in fact lunch, and by Saturday lunch time, Fred had stopped even bothering to bring the Dizzying Draught with him.<p>

"Spectacular, they said," muttered Lee, half to himself, half to Fred and George. "There's nothing bloody spectacular about this, and now I've got to spend all afternoon in detention with McGonagall."

"Sorry, Lee-"

"_All_ afternoon! _Detention!_" Lee waved his hands in the air emphatically.

"Bad luck, mate," said Fred, struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

"It's not luck, it's detention. With McGon-" At this point, Lee was interrupted by a bony figure who appeared behind him quite suddenly.

"Yes, Mr Jordan, and I think we'll start now, if you're finished with your lunch," McGonagall said to him, giving him a cool look from behind her glasses.

Lee toppled over sideways in surprise, knocking into George, who in turn crashed into Fred, who only managed to resist turning the Gryffindor table into a pile of dominoes because a teacher was present. "Umm… Sorry, professor. I'll be on my way," said Lee.

Lee extracted himself from the small heap he'd managed to create and followed the Transfiguration teacher from the room, giving Fred, who'd now succumbed to laughter, a quick swat on the shoulder as he passed.

"Well, what shall we do now?" gasped Fred, finally getting himself under control.

George looked quickly from side to side, then spoke quietly out of the corner of his mouth. "Actually, I've got an idea. I've been looking at that map, and there's something I want to show you. Come on."

The two brothers quickly reached their dormitory, and George wasted no time in grabbing the Marauder's Map out of a drawer. He sat down next to Fred on the floor and laid the map out between them.

"Look at these passages," he said, tracing a few with his finger. "There's one here, behind some statue, one going off the side of the grounds, one on the fourth floor and a few more. They go straight off the page…"

George looked at his twin expectantly, but Fred still looked blank. "So…?" he asked.

"So… They lead out of school! The map shows Hogwarts and the grounds, so if the passages go off the side…" He didn't have to say any more; Fred had finally understood. A gleam had lit up in his eyes, which George recognised as the one he always got when they were planning on causing some form of mayhem.

"What are you waiting for?" Fred grabbed his wand and jumped to his feet. "Come on, we can bring Lee back a souvenir."

George grinned and followed his twin out of the room.

* * *

><p>Out of the room was about as far as they got. They'd forgotten to pick a passageway, and ended up stopping half way down the stairs from the boys' dormitories.<p>

"I think this one," said Fred, pointing to a corridor where a passage appeared to lead out of a statue.

"No, Filch is buzzing around on that floor, we want to stay away from there," replied George, bending his head over the map to take a closer look. "Hang on…"

"What?"

"You remember our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson?"

"How could I forget – it was the first time we got to use spells."

"Yeah, but before the lesson, Lyndon mentioned something about a mirror on the fourth floor, and he was acting all secretively and stuff. And look there!" George jabbed his finger excitedly at the fourth floor corridor. Sure enough, the passage he'd noticed earlier led off the side of the map from a mirror in an empty classroom.

Fred looked up, a wide smile still spreading across his face. "You're a bloody genius, you know that?"

He grabbed George's wrist and set off, running until they reached the mirror in question, both slightly out of breath, but mercifully free from teachers.

"So, what next?" Fred asked, pulling the map out of his pocket again.

The twins both looked at it intently, hoping it would reveal more secrets to them, and indeed a second later, a speech bubble appeared from their two dots. The miniature ink Fred and George seemed to be waving their wands at the mirror and saying, "Aperto Spectaculum". The real life Fred and George copied the example, though it took them a couple of tries to pronounce the incantation correctly, and immediately the mirror began to melt away. The twins' reflections rippled and vanished, and soon a round chamber was revealed, with a passage leading off the end.

Fred and George glanced at each other quickly. Not needing to say anything, they each squeezed through the mirror frame and stepped into the chamber. It was dark, and smelled of dust and cobwebs, which tickled Fred's nose and the back of his throat, making him sneeze.

"Lumos," whispered George, whose lead quickly followed by Fred. They weren't entirely sure why they felt like they ought to be quiet - it must have been something to do with the undisturbed stillness of the place. They could hardly believe there was nobody waiting in the shadows to jump out at them with an axe, or some Potions homework, or another terror like that.

The Lumos spells had lit up the chamber so they could now see properly. It felt a bit like a cavern, cut roughly into rock, with damp moss growing up the walls. A spider scuttled past them, disturbed by the light, and the twins grinned at each other, imagining how Ron would have reacted if he was there.

"Shall we go?" said Fred eventually, once they'd stood staring around for a few minutes.

"Yeah."

They made their way quietly through the passage. It took them at least fifteen minutes, and there were sections of cave where they were forced to edge through sideways, because the passageway was so narrow. At last, it began to open out, and light was visible at the end of a slight upwards slope. Fred popped his head out of the hole. They appeared to be at the end of a small cobbled street, between two houses. The street was deserted, so Fred pulled himself out and beckoned George to follow him.

"Blimey, we're really in Hogsmeade!" George exclaimed, brushing dust off the sleeves of his robes and craning his neck to look around them.

The two of them soon managed to find their way into the main section of Hogsmeade. They walked along trying to seem as casual as possible, hands deep in their pockets and kicking pebbles as they walked, looking for all the world as if they owned the place. Any normal passer-by should think they were allowed to be there, but Fred and George kept out a sharp eye for teachers, who might not be so easily fooled if they saw a couple of their own First Year pupils wandering the streets of Hogsmeade. Their first stop was Zonko's Joke Shop, where they wanted to replenish their supply of dung bombs.

"Filch'll have a field day," said Fred happily as he gazed around the shelves, which were stacked high with the kind of items he dreamt about – nose-biting teacups, hiccough sweets, sugar quills guaranteed to fool even the strictest teacher into thinking you're just working out what to write next…

Soon they left Zonko's, pockets bulging with fake wands and trick quills, only having received a couple of suspicious glances from the staff, which they put an end to with the most innocent and angelic expressions they'd ever perfected. Next they pooled the rest of their pocket money and, deciding they had just about enough for some sweets or Butterbeer, made their way to Honeydukes. Honeydukes turned out to be crowded enough that they could escape the notice of nearly everyone and just slip through the crowds, even on a non-Hogsmeade weekend. Finally, they plucked up the courage to visit the Three Broomsticks, where Madame Rosmerta looked extremely doubtful about their age and whether or not they had permission to be there, but luckily chose not to ask them too many questions.

Eventually, Fred looked down at his watch and gasped – they'd somehow managed to stay in Hogsmeade all afternoon. He tugged on the end of George's sleeve, pointing at the watch face, and once they'd paid for their drinks, the two boys quickly ran back to the entrance to the passageway. Slipping inside it, they darted down the slope before pausing to catch their breath at the point where the passage flattened out.

George leant against the wall, breathing hard. "We made it! We're totally doing that more often, it was brilliant."

"Yeah, that Butterbeer was delicious."

"And Zonko's! Wouldn't it be amazing to run a shop like tha-" Suddenly, George's words were cut off, as his arms windmilled in the air and he fell backwards... through the _wall_.

"George?" shouted Fred, running to the other side of the passage, where his brother had vanished. He began to run his hands over the rough stone of the wall, desperately feeling for some kind of door.

"Fred?" George's reply sounded muffled. "I'm through here, there's some kind of chamber… Try leaning against the wall like I was doing."

Fred did so, and a moment later, he felt the sides of the passage vanish from behind his back and he landed with a thump on the ground, next to George. He pulled himself to his feet, looking around in astonishment. They were indeed in a sort of chamber, quite like the one at the very start of the passage in Hogwarts. Fred and George looked at each other slightly nervously, and then gathered their Gryffindor bravery and took a step into the centre of the room. Instantly, fiery torches sprung into life on the walls, making them jump, and the room was illuminated in an orange glow for them to see.

In the centre stood a square marble pedestal, upon which was a statue of two witches and two wizards. Fred and George crept closer to read the engraving at the foot of the statue. It read, "_Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw – Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._"

"Look," said George suddenly.

Fred turned to the point he seemed to be examining, near the foot of the pedestal. There was a small opening in it. George bent down and reached into the gap. His eyes widened as his fingers hit something inside, and he pulled out an old scroll of parchment. The twins both looked at it carefully, until Fred said a bit shakily, "Go on then, open it."

George unrolled the parchment and, squinting to decipher the pointed handwriting, he began to read:

_Days alone after the Sorting Hat was created, we, the founders of Hogwarts, decided to create a test – a challenge for a student worthy of the school as a whole and of all the Houses combined. Anyone who chooses to take this on must note that with this adventure comes great danger. Reaching your goal will, however, bring you rewards. Knowledge of the school and of its secrets will be gained, as will the respect of your fellow pupils. Find an object from each House and bring them to the place of which we are speaking now. Only then will you be granted access to the greatest adventure of your life, for these will act as proof of your ability and your potential to succeed. Round about you, above you and below you lies a maze of traps, riddles and deception through which you must pass. Even during its creation, many before you have failed, with disastrous consequences. So now the time has come for you to decide – are you willing to risk your life for a chance at adventure and a promise of reward? This challenge is not to be taken lightly; we warn you now that if you choose to take it on, you will need strengths from each of the four Houses – the courage of the lion, the cunning of the snake, the wisdom of the eagle and the persistence of the badger._

A long pause followed. Eventually the silence was broken by Fred. "Blimey… They're asking quite a lot, aren't they?"

George laughed softly. "I'm assuming we're planning on doing this challenge, or whatever it is," he said.

"Of course we are, mate! How could we not after hearing about all the risks and rewards and whatnot?"

"I thought you'd say that, my most devilishly charming brother," George smirked, taking another look at the scroll. "But what's this place it's talking about? It just said 'the place of which we are speaking now'."

"I dunno… Is there anything else in that hole in the statue?" As Fred spoke he reached down and rummaged around in the gap himself, but he came up with nothing more. "No joy. We'll just have to work it out as we go along, I suppose."

"Yeah, maybe Lee'll have an idea."

"Anyway, what's the stuff about the houses?" Fred reached over to take the scroll from George and have a look himself.

"I think we have to find an item from each house to – what was it? Oh yeah, to prove that we have the ability to do this challenge thingy."

"And because we have to have the qualities from each house to succeed in completing it. I don't know about you, but I don't much feel like having any _Slytherin _in my personality... Ah well, needs must, I suppose," said Fred, who was studying the parchment more carefully than he'd ever looked at schoolwork, or in fact anything else brought to him by the founders of Hogwarts.

The eleven-year-olds glanced at each other, eyes wide and still with identically dazed expressions. The gravity of what they had discovered was just beginning to sink in. A challenge set up… When? Thousands of years ago? By the founders of Hogwarts. And _they_ were the ones who'd found it. Not necessarily the first to discover it, but they were certain that they'd have heard about it if anyone before them had solved this puzzle.

George took the scroll back from Fred and rolled it up into the Marauder's Map, tucking them both safely away. They found a small door in the corner of the chamber, which led back into the passageway, and they headed off again towards Hogwarts, chattering constantly about what items they could use for each different house.

"Perhaps we could have something with a raven on it," said Fred as they turned out of the classroom containing the mirror and began to walk back to Gryffindor Tower.

"A raven? What d'you want one of those for?" George scoffed.

"For Ravenclaw," Fred explained slowly, as if he was talking to a very small child.

"Fred. Have you ever even looked at the Hogwarts crest?" George said, using the same tone as his brother. "Let me give you a clue – it's an eagle."

"Oh," said Fred, sounding slightly hurt that his idea had come to nothing. "Well it was worth a try."

"C'mon, let's find Lee. He must be out of Detention by now!"

"Yeah, maybe he'll have a bright idea about… finding a griffin or something!"

George hit Fred lightly on the arm, and they continued towards the Common Room, laughing happily with each other. Neither of them noticed that a third dot had joined their two on the Marauder's Map as they emerged from the secret passage in the supposedly empty classroom. This dot, which was drawn in a dotted line to indicate a Disillusionment Charm, was labelled Darius Lyndon, and had trailed theirs up several corridors, before swerving off into its own office, where it quickly stationed itself in front of the fireplace for an urgent Floo call.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Yay, an update! Finally! I'm so sorry for the wait, really. Basically, I've been working on a different story for a challenge, and as it had a deadline, I had no time to do this one. I effectively sacrificed what would have been about four updates in order to finish it in time… If you're interested, it's a Harry Potter and Twilight crossover (not really written for Twilight fans, sorry!) called <strong>_**Finding Cedric**_**. I also wrote a one shot called **_**Gone**_**, but that doesn't count because I wrote it in the middle of the night so it didn't take time away from this story.**

**So, can you guess where this mysterious 'place' is? It shouldn't be too hard – I bet you can work it out quite quickly, if you haven't done already, haha! I promise to update sooner next time. I swear. For now, please review, make your predictions!  
><strong>


	9. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**Disclaimer: See last chapter, because I can't be bothered to come up with anything new. Basically, I still don't own Harry Potter.**

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><p>"And that, Lee, is how we fought off the dragon and claimed this scroll!" finished Fred, waving his bit of parchment in the air with a flourish.<p>

Lee goggled at him open-mouthed. "You're telling me you went into Hogsmeade, discovered a horde of goblins rebelling in Honeydukes… with a dragon… and then you single-handedly fought off the dragon using only a Chocolate Frog, and were handed this mysterious scroll by the owner of Honeydukes in thanks for saving the shop. Right."

"You forgot the bit where one of Bill's mummies landed on the roof and got burned up by the dragon," George said helpfully. "But other than that, yeah, pretty much."

"Sometimes I wonder why I hang around with you two…" said Lee, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

It took him about ten minutes to get the real story out of Fred and George, told in tiny sections by each twin in turn. Once they'd explained everything and let him read through the scroll, the three Gryffindors began to go over the details of the challenge together, helped along by stacks of chocolate from Honeydukes, which was luckily perfectly safe from dragons and goblin rebellions. No thanks to Fred and George.

"So we need to find these house items?" said Lee eventually, lazily pinning down a Chocolate Frog with one hand and pulling out its card. It was Dumbledore.

"Yeah. We have no idea what kind of thing it should be though," Fred replied. He was sucking on a Fizzing Whizbee, and so was hovering cross-legged several inches above the dormitory floor.

George meanwhile was deep in concentration. At least, Fred thought so, though he could of course have just been in the middle of a Sugar Quill.

"Gryffindor should be easy enough anyway," George finally said through his mouthful of what did indeed turn out to be Sugar Quill. "We can probably just get something from the common room. And maybe for the others we could go with something to do with the animal emblem thingy?"

"That might work… And if not we can always try again with different items."

"Then it's settled." George clapped his hands together in a business-like way, and just a moment later Fred fell to the floor with a bump as he swallowed the last bits of Fizzing Whizbee.

After dinner, the three boys went back to the common room, where they settled down on the floor with a set of Gobstones to wait for the other Gryffindors to clear out and go up to their dormitories. It was well past midnight by the time this happened, as Charlie was giving his Quidditch team a talk on new tactic ideas for their upcoming match against Slytherin in a few weeks time. Finally Charlie and the team headed off to bed, looking slightly strangely at Fred, George and Lee, who were now resolutely entering their twenty-third game of Gobstones. At last, they had the common room to themselves.

"So what are we looking for?" Lee whispered, not wanting anyone in the dormitories upstairs to hear him.

"It said 'an object from each house', so I reckon we just need anything that can represent Gryffindor," said Fred.

George wandered over to the corner of the room, running his fingers over a shelf and feeling them picking up dust. Unfortunately, they didn't happen to pick up some kind of relic of Godric Gryffindor as well...

Fred was examining the furniture. "Do you think it counts that it's red?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I don't," said Lee, who had been peering around the room to try to find something promising. "How about this though?"

Fred and George joined him next to a cupboard, which Lee was reaching into. They saw his fingers close around something, and he pulled it out. It was a small ceramic figurine of Godric Gryffindor, wearing robes painted gold and scarlet. It pulled itself upright on the palm of Lee's hand, muttered something about the injustice of being manhandled by giants, and began to strut back and forth with its shoulders thrown back in a heroic manner and miniscule wand out and at the ready.

"He'll be perfect," said Fred and George together.

"One down, three to go," grinned Lee, as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory, triumphantly clutching their newly-found Gryffindor object.

They put the figurine safely in Lee's trunk, despite Godric's protests, and got into bed. Fred and George were quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of tiny ceramic fists beating the inside of the trunk, and fell instantly into dreams full of snakes, eagles, badgers and quests. Even the figurine grew bored of putting up a fight and settled down into his new home inside one of Lee's socks, which was a comforting red colour.

* * *

><p>Slowly days stretched out into weeks. Fred and George were starting to learn more spells and master the old ones, and even more homework was being piled onto them every day, not that they paid a great deal of attention to it. Before they knew it, it was October and Quidditch season was about to begin. The first match of the year was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and it had been excitedly anticipated by not only those two houses, but the rest of the school as well. While Slytherin was widely regarded as one of the strongest and most ruthless teams Hogwarts had seen in years, Charlie had been training the Gryffindor team fiercely since the start of September. If anyone stood a chance against Slytherin, it was them.<p>

And so the first Saturday of the month found Fred, George and Lee sitting in the stands holding a large Gryffindor banner and shouting abuse at the Slytherins opposite them, who were returning their insults with gusto. It was a cold but clear day, which, Charlie had told them as he paced up and down the pitch earlier that morning, made the job of the Chasers slightly easier, but his role as Seeker more difficult. Whereas the Chasers could keep warm constantly flying up and down the pitch, Charlie (as he informed them, laughing good-naturedly) would be hovering above the game, hoping his fingers didn't freeze onto his broom handle before he could catch the Snitch.

Soon Madame Hooch strode onto the pitch, whistle in hand, and the two teams walked out to a tide of mixed cheers and boos from the crowd. Charlie and the giant Slytherin captain, Adrian Pucey's older brother, each grasped the other's hand tightly, their faces set hard. Fred and George looked over to the other side of the stands, where they saw the Pucey from their year leaning over the edge of the railings, watching his brother crush Charlie's fingers with a look of glee on his face. Fred mashed his fist into the palm of his other hand, glaring at Pucey as hard as he could.

"Charlie had better win," muttered George, and Fred nodded fervently.

"And they're off!" came the start of the commentary, as Madame Hooch blew her whistle to initiate the game. "This year's Gryffindor team features Weasley as captain and Seeker, Wood as Keeper, Beaters Jackson and Peters, and Chasers Hutcherson, Boyd and McDonnell. And on the other side, Slytherin's captain Pucey has picked out Rogers as Keeper, Flint and Warrington as the other Chasers, Bole and Lloyd as Beaters and Higgs as Seeker.

As the commentator, a Fifth Year Hufflepuff boy whose name the twins didn't know, spoke, the fourteen players kicked off from the ground and shot at once into the air, spreading out around the pitch. George caught sight of Charlie high above the game, looking at his fingerless Quidditch gloves ruefully and rubbing his hands together. George nudged Fred and pointed, and Fred sniggered.

"Flint takes the Quaffle, he passes to Rogers. And it's Rogers heading towards the Gryffindor goal, he's nearly hit by a Bludger from Jackson, he dodges it but drops the Quaffle and it's caught by McDonnell. McDonnell's streaking down the pitch, she shoots, she scores! Ten nil to Gryffindor!"

A huge cheer rose up from the Gryffindor side of the pitch as Leila McDonnell, a Sixth Year girl with short dark hair, punched the air in celebration and flew off back towards the centre of the pitch.

Next, one of Leila's fellow Chasers, Henry Boyd, who was friends with Charlie, took the Quaffle. He leant forwards on his broom and raced towards the Slytherin end of the pitch. At the last minute, he passed the Quaffle back and it was caught easily by the third Chaser, a girl named Sarah Hutcherson, who then flung it backwards over her shoulder to Leila without even looking, in a move that had obviously been practised hard in one of the team's many training sessions. Leila caught the Quaffle, swerved round a Bludger and chucked it back to Henry, who was abruptly cut off by both Bludgers being hit hard towards him. He panicked and dropped the Quaffle. Marcus Flint seized it and managed to score a goal against the Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood, who Fred and George recognised as being two years above them. The score was level, and Oliver and Charlie both looked distraught.

"Gryffindor Keeper Wood fails to save the goal, and now the score is ten all," came the voice of the commentator, a little late.

"I could commentate much better than that," said Lee, disgusted.

From then on, the match went from bad to worse for the Gryffindor team. The Slytherin Beaters were merciless, and appeared to have developed a tactic of aiming both of the Bludgers at whichever Gryffindor player seemed to be the biggest threat. Only ten minutes into the game, Sarah received a Bludger to the head when she was about to shoot, and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing. Twenty minutes after that, Gryffindor was also one Beater down, as Peters was knocked clean off his broom trying to avoid both Bludgers coming at him from his left. Within this time, Slytherin had scored four more times, and Gryffindor not at all. Oliver was a very good Keeper and made several spectacular saves, but the sheer number of times the Slytherin Chasers shot was too much for him to deal with. Charlie was searching manically for the Snitch, clearly wishing he could end the game then and there. The team struggled on with a grim determination.

The game continued to play out, the gap between the Gryffindors and Slytherins gradually widening. George looked up at Charlie, who was circling the pitch from above, looking ever more desperate. Suddenly, Charlie stopped in midair. He'd seen something. George tapped Fred on the shoulder and pointed, but his twin had already noticed. Charlie hovered for a moment, biting his lip. George knew why; the score was one hundred and ninety to forty, and if Charlie caught the Snitch now, Gryffindor and Slytherin would draw... But he couldn't win. Charlie came to a decision within a fraction of a second, which felt like much longer, and hurtled towards the Gryffindor goalpost where the golden Snitch was beating its wings, pushing his broom into a dive and reaching out with one hand.

"Weasley's seen the Snitch, Higgs is following, they're both diving, and… Weasley catches the Snitch! The game is over, one hundred and ninety all! Gryffindor and Slytherin draw!"

Higgs dropped sour-faced to the ground, and kicked the grass in annoyance. Charlie on the other hand rose up from his dive, holding the Snitch high above his head and grinning. Once he was back on the ground, the remaining members of his team surrounded him, congratulating him on his catch, thankful that the match hadn't been a total victory to Slytherin.

Adrian Pucey didn't look so happy.

"All right there, Troll Face?" called Fred, unable to resist.

"I thought you said your brother was going to crush ours…" George added.

"In case you didn't notice, my brother is a Chaser, and he _did _crush your team," spat Pucey, scowling at the twins, who had already acquired the Cheshire Cat expressions they liked to wear when talking to him.

"And our brother's a Seeker, and he crushed _your_ team," said Fred and George in unison, enjoying baiting him.

The argument continued for a little while, going round in circles, until Pucey snapped, "At least my family can afford a broomstick that doesn't look like it came straight off the tree," and turned away from Fred and George, striding towards the school again.

George's hands were shaking with anger. He balled them into fists at his sides to stop them from trembling and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Fred was muttering angrily to himself, leaning forwards towards Pucey and looking as though he'd rather like to run after him and punch him in the face. Luckily, Fred and George tended to be a bit more subtle than that when it came to vengeance, so long as they'd retained the ability to think straight.

"Revenge. Tonight," Fred said, and once George had nodded his consent, they too set back towards the school, with Lee walking beside them slightly awkwardly.

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><p>Back in their dormitory, Fred pulled out a small glass vial, inside which a silver potion was shining – their Dizzying Draught. "Change of target?" he asked. George and Lee agreed, and they set to planning how best to feed it to Pucey, resigned to abandoning their vendetta against Snape, at least for the time being.<p>

That evening, the twins brought the Dizzying Draught to dinner with them. Throughout their first course, they kept glancing jumpily at the Slytherin table, waiting for the right moment to come, when one of them could slip past unnoticed. The best chance they were likely to get came just before they started on pudding. Pucey got up from his seat to talk to his brother further down the table, probably about the Quidditch match, and instantly George grabbed the vial and got to his feet. Fred gave him a thumbs up and fixed his eyes on Pucey, ready to give George the whistled signal they'd had since age five if he was running out of time.

George sauntered as quickly as he could while still looking casual towards the Slytherin side of the Great Hall, keeping his ears pricked for Fred's warning. He discreetly uncorked the vial as he went, and hid it in the palm of his hand. As he turned and walked along the side of the Slytherin table, he positioned the flask at the tips of his fingers, and, passing by Pucey's vacant seat, he slowed slightly, reached his arm out just a little and tipped the potion into Pucey's pumpkin juice, continuing on his way without a second glance. He went on straight to the side of the Great Hall and out of the door with no hesitation, as if it was what he'd been going to do all along. He forced himself to wait for a couple of minutes, and then quickly returned to his seat next to Fred.

"Was it all right?" he asked in a low voice.

"Nobody saw, I was watching," Fred confirmed.

Lee smiled at them. "And now, we wait."

Pucey had by this point returned to his place at the Slytherin table, but hadn't yet drunk any of his pumpkin juice. The twins watched him with eagle eyes, growing slightly restless as he talked to a few people opposite him and fiddled with his cutlery, even going as far as to pick up his goblet, rolling the handle around between his fingers, but set it down again untouched.

At last, the moment they were waiting for arrived, and Pucey took a swig of pumpkin juice, oblivious to the excitement of the three Gryffindors on the other side of the Great Hall. The effects of the potion took a few minutes to kick in, but gradually they began to see that it was working. The first sign came when Pucey attempted to pick up his fork, miscalculated the distance and swiped through the air above it instead. He shook his head slightly, like he was trying to clear it, and succeeded on his second go. A few minutes later, he rubbed his forehead, blinking rapidly. He said something to the boy next to him, and stood up.

"It's working," whispered Fred gleefully.

That was the point when the potion kicked in properly. Pucey took a step forwards, accidentally going too far to the right and bumping into his friend. He took another step, swayed, and toppled over with a crash, falling onto the table and landing sprawled right in the middle of a large chocolate cake, groaning. Snape looked up from his place at the teachers' table sharply and immediately rushed forwards to work out what was the matter with his student. Fred, George and Lee all got up, walking very slowly towards the door and straining their ears to catch Snape's next words.

"Dale, please take Mr. Pucey up to the Hospital Wing," Snape said to another First Year Slytherin boy. Dale hurried off with Pucey, casting suspicious looks back to the table as he went.

"Is he all right?" asked Professor Sprout worriedly, joining Snape from the staff table.

"Oh yes, he'll be fine," Snape said coldly. "I have a very good idea of what happened."

Hearing those words, Fred and George quickly decided it wasn't a good idea to dawdle, and they got out of the Great Hall as fast as they could.

"Still, we got away with it," said Fred happily once they'd reached the common room. "Did you see his face?"

"Yeah, you don't get away with insulting the Weasleys. Or Charlie's broom," George said.

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><p>The next morning, Pucey was back at breakfast, still looking slightly pale, but healthy. However, there were obviously some more long-lasting psychological effects of having your drink spiked, as Fred and George noticed with delight that Pucey was giving his food a very wary look, and seemed reluctant to even touch his goblet. He poked a sausage with his fork, cut a small piece off, stared at it carefully and put it down again, looking a bit green.<p>

"Weasleys." A voice had suddenly come from behind Fred and George's heads. They both jumped in shock, recognising Professor Snape's drawl instantly, a cold feeling of alarm shooting through their veins. "Come with me. We have something to discuss."

"Are you sure about that, Professor?" said Fred weakly.

"Quite sure," Snape said, leaving a long pause between the words.

Fred and George got up and followed him from the room, communicating silently with each other through their glances. Was it possible that he knew that Pucey's sudden dizziness had been their fault? He was a Potions teacher, after all. They came to a halt in the Entrance Hall, far enough from the prying eyes of other students.

"So," he said. "You might remember that last night Adrian Pucey was overcome by an unfortunate… illness." He placed a light emphasis on the word 'illness' that sent an uncomfortable jolt through George's stomach. He glanced at Fred nervously.

"I think I vaguely remember that," Fred told Snape, twisting his face into a look of utmost concentration. "No, sorry, I don't know. It's gone."

"Don't try to be funny, Weasley, you'll only get yourself into a worse situation," Snape hissed at him, his eyes darting rapidly between Fred and George. "I happen to know that that potion was a Dizzying Draught. Can you tell me how such a potion might have got into Mr. Pucey's pumpkin juice?"

"Maybe a House Elf thought it was funny," said George bravely.

"Or maybe a portrait of an old Potions master has given me a description of three students who broke into my store cupboard to steal the one ingredient for a Dizzying Draught that they were lacking. The description in questions happens to sound rather like the two of you and your friend Mr. Jordan." Snape was leaning towards the twins now, his face inches from theirs. George suppressed the urge to step backwards, holding his ground.

"Well, coincidences happen," said Fred sympathetically. "Good luck in tracking down those three students."

"Mr. Weasley, for once in your life, hold your tongue! The theft of potions ingredients and the assault of a fellow pupil are very serious offenses! You can tell Jordan that the three of you have detention in my office every Sunday evening for the next three weeks. I will expect you there by seven tonight to start." At that, Snape turned and strode away from them, his black cloak billowing around him.

Fred and George looked at each other glumly.

"Could be worse," said Fred finally. "Detention's not too bad really, if you think about it."

"I somehow doubt that detention with Snape will be a picnic," George reminded him, "But you're right. And Pucey's reaction this morning was _priceless_."

"Well, I suppose we'd better find Lee and notify him of our impending doom," Fred said. The twins walked off, in considerably higher spirits than anyone would expect from two boys just given detention for the next three weeks.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Quicker update this time, thankfully! Hmm... Ending's not great though. Reviews would be much appreciated!<strong>


	10. Detention With Snape

**Disclaimer: The honour of owning Harry Potter still goes to JK Rowling.**

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><p>That evening found Fred, George and Lee standing hesitantly outside Snape's office, waiting to meet their potentially torturous fates. At least, that was the way they saw it. In George's humble opinion, it made it sound a lot more heroic than 'detention'.<p>

"Should we knock?" asked Lee, after they had waited outside the door for a good few minutes without either of the twins showing signs of going in.

"Should we leave?" George countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, let's just go for it," said Fred in an uncharacteristically resigned voice. Then he added, sounding more like himself, "And annoy Snape as much as possible while we're at it."

He slowly pushed open the door, peeking in through the gap, and was met immediately by Snape's face, glaring back at him through the small crack in the door.

"_What_ are you doing, Weasley?" hissed Snape.

"Coming to detention?" said Fred, and then in a more hopeful voice, "But we can go if you don't want us."

"Most people knock, instead of skulking around behind the door. It makes you look as if you're... up to no good."

"I solemnly swear it," whispered George, too quietly for Snape to hear, but just audibly enough to make Fred and Lee both snort slightly in laughter.

Snape looked at them suspiciously, and then held open the door for the three of them to enter his office. He watched them attentively as they trooped in, and then led them to his desk.

"Today," he said, "You will be sorting my potions ingredients alphabetically, and making a list of where you have placed each ingredient, using the numbers on the shelves. Don't even think of trying to take something. I'll be watching, and I won't hesitate to go to Dumbledore and request your suspension or expulsion. What a happy day that would be for all of us..."

At that, he handed over a quill and parchment to George, who was stifling muffled laughter, and opened another door into his private store cupboard. The twins looked around it optimistically. It wasn't too big; perhaps Snape would let them go reasonably quickly, considering the fact that they had three weeks to finish cleaning it.

Snape gave them a nasty smile, and their hopes vanished instantly. "I expect you to get through this cupboard today. For the next two weeks you will be working on the _student_ storeroom," he sneered. "I think you'll find its state of disarray is far worse than this. And rest assured, if you don't finish it by the end of the allocated time, I'm sure we can – ah – extend your detention."

George's shoulders slumped, and he looked hopelessly across the room at the student store cupboard. It wasn't just untidy; there were bottles and jars actually littering the floor. In a corner, a pile of shattered glass was just visible, with an unpleasant-looking liquid dripping from it. In fact, George was sure the storeroom wasn't normally quite that messy. He wouldn't be surprised if Snape had 'accidentally' allowed Peeves to get into it during the day.

"What are you waiting for? You'd better get started now," Snape said, gesturing towards his private storeroom.

Fred, George and Lee surrendered themselves to their task and walked into the storeroom, George carrying the parchment and quill. Snape followed them in and conjured up a chair in the corner, where he sat down, pulled out some marking, and got to work keeping the three First Years carefully within his field of vision.

Fred, George and Lee got to work at once, aiming to be out of detention, away from Snape's greasy hair and happily back in their dormitory as soon as possible. They decided to move the ingredients into approximately the right places first of all, and then alphabetise it properly and make the list. The work was harder than they'd expected, as quite a few of the labels on the ingredients were faded and unclear, but normally they could work it out after a bit of squinting. Suddenly, Fred halted, staring at a jar of ingredients. George glanced over at his brother, to see him wide-eyed, looking as though a realisation had just hit him. George caught Fred's eye for a moment, raising his eyebrows questioningly, and Fred mouthed silently that he would explain later. George nodded once and turned away, and they both went back to their work as though nothing had happened.

Three hours later, everything was in its correct place, more or less. George's hand was aching painfully from writing out the list, but at least it done. While they were working, they had even managed to find a way to enjoy themselves, though it came at a price. Whenever they came across a label that was faded, even for the most obvious ingredients, they would take the jar to Snape and ask him innocently what it said. This started harmlessly enough, and Snape's snide comments suggested that he just thought they were even more unintelligent than he had previously assumed, but gradually he became more and more irritable as Fred, George and Lee grew bolder and eventually started asking him to clarify for even the clearest writing. ("I know it says 'Newt Eggs', but I wasn't sure if there was possibly a bit of label missing, say, describing the newts!")

Finally, Snape's patience, which was already very limited, wore out, and he gave them another week's detention, which put an annoying end to their fun. He refused to withdraw the detention even when faced with Fred and George's most wide-eyed and trusting gazes, which clearly said, 'We are poor, innocent young children who knew no better. Love us.' Admittedly, these gazes did look quite out of place and almost frightening when they were plastered all over the Weasley twins' faces, despite Fred and George's best efforts to perfect them. Snape was not deceived for a second.

"Just get out," he snapped finally. "I expect you here again this time next week."

George suppressed laughter and left the dungeons with Fred and Lee.

As soon as they were out of Snape's earshot, he asked Fred, "What did you see?"

Fred's eyes lit up and he began to grin. "I couldn't say anything with the old bat sitting watching us, but I think I've found us a Slytherin item!" he announced.

"What is it, what is it?" chorused George and Lee.

"There was a jar of snake skins – that's got to count, right?"

"Yeah, that fits right in with the slimy gits, it'll be great," said George happily.

"Only thing is," said Fred, his eyebrows creasing, "We're not working in his private storeroom next week."

"We'll need a distraction," George replied, coming to a halt and striking a daredevil pose.

"Something bold-" Fred continued, taking up the same position.

"-Daring-"

"-Reckless-"

"-And Gryffindor beyond belief!" they finished together.

"You up for a fifth week of detention?" asked Fred.

"You bet I am," George smirked back.

Lee buried his face in his hands. "Why am I friends with you?" he muttered, looking from one to the other of the twins. A dreamy look came onto his face. "I could be in the common room. Or asleep. But instead we're probably doomed to detention for the rest of the year. _Why_?"

"Because, Lee, you have fallen for our charm like countless others before you," Fred told him, patting his shoulder and wearing a generous smile.

"It's easy to do," agreed George.

* * *

><p>The next day was a Monday, so quickly more lessons were upon them. First, they had the ever-loved History of Magic, with Professor Binns. Fred and George spent most of the lesson playing Wizard's Chess in the back row, with Lee adding his own commentary. He had now decided to go for the job of Quidditch commentator for the next year and he wanted to get in some practice, even if it was with chess.<p>

"Bishop to E5," said George quietly.

"Knight to E5," murmured Fred, sending him a smug look.

George swore, more loudly than he'd intended, as his bishop was pushed roughly off the board by Fred's knight. He looked round sharply to check that nobody had heard him, but Professor Binns just continued obliviously with his lecture on the 1548 feuds between goblins Burg the Useless and Gark the All-Conquering (spoiler – Gark won).

"George Weasley's bishop is crushed by Fred's knight – ooh, that looked painful, remind me never to get on the wrong side of Fred again!" said Lee in an animated whisper, waving his hands around wildly.

The twins both stared at him bemusedly. "What?" Lee defended himself. "I'm practising for Bludger hits, OK?"

"All right," they said together, drawing out the words and smirking at each other.

Their lessons continued to pass in a similar vein. Fred and George were feeling so restless and edgy at the prospect of stealing yet more potions ingredients from under Snape's nose that they couldn't have concentrated in class if they'd wanted to. This, unfortunately for their teachers, led to an even more increased tendency than normal to blow up anything that came into contact with their wands.

In Charms that day, they were supposed to be practising Lumos and Nox, two useful spells to create a light on the end of a wand and put it out again.

"Lumos," said Fred absentmindedly, swishing his wand hard instead of just holding it in front of him like he was meant to.

Professor Flitwick squeaked in astonishment as a burst of sparks shot from the end of Fred's wand and alighted on a roll of parchment, which promptly sprung up in flames.

"Aguamenti," he cried, his voice rising to an even more high pitched note than usual. He quickly extinguished the fire and sent Fred to practise more carefully and away from anything flammable.

A similar incident occurred in Potions. Fred and George spent the lesson on tenterhooks. They didn't want to give Snape any reason to suspect them when he found the snake skins missing, so they kept their eyes fixed firmly on him as they tried to make a Forgetfulness Potion. Staring at him was probably counterproductive, but they couldn't help it. Soon they reached the step written on the board that instructed them to stir the potion ten times anti-clockwise. George set to it with vigour, while still not shifting his gaze from Snape.

"Erm… George?" said Fred eventually, tapping his twin on the shoulder.

"What is it?" George asked vaguely. His stirring picked up its speed even further. He was now at well over forty stirs.

"I don't think the potion's meant to be orange," Fred told him casually, as if he was commenting on the weather. "Take cover!"

With a noise like a gunshot, the cauldron exploded. Thick black smoke billowed up, leaving Fred and George's faces smudged with dust, and splashes of potion sprayed out over the room. A few drops hit a Slytherin boy called Dale on the cheek, and his face instantly began to erupt in nasty looking boils. He moaned, holding his hands gingerly up to his face and wincing. Snape spun at the sound of the chaos and swooped towards Fred and George's desk. His nostrils were flaring angrily and he looked like he'd rather enjoy murdering the two identical gingers in their sleep.

"Even as the dunderheads you are, surely you should have noticed how completely you were wrecking this potion?" he said softly. There was a dangerous note to his voice.

Fred and George gulped, lost for words for once in their lives. Fred nervously pushed the sleeves of his robes over his hands for protection and tried to move the smouldering lump of metal that had previously been their cauldron out of Snape's line of vision.

"Mum's going to kill us," he whispered to George, gaping appalled at the ex-cauldron.

Snape opened him mouth to speak again, probably to give them detention until the start of their O.W.L.s, but he was interrupted by shouting coming from the other side of the room. Dale, in his panic, had knocked over his own cauldron. His half completed Forgetfulness Potion had combined with Fred and George's and was now spilling down onto the floor, where startled students were yelping and trying to avoid the steaming puddle. Snape immediately swept over to vanish the potion and to send Dale to the Hospital Wing to have his swelling pustules removed. When he returned to Fred and George's desk, he was breathing heavily and looked furious, but fortunately for the twins, he appeared to have decided there wasn't much he could do. He let them go after deducting twenty points each from Gryffindor and threatening to give them yet another week's detention if they put one more toe out of place.

* * *

><p>Defence Against the Dark Arts on Friday was the only other lesson that week that stuck out in George's mind, because of what happened afterwards. During the lesson, they had continued to work on minor jinxes and spells that could be used in combat, and were now also onto shield charms. The class had paired up and they were meant to be shooting harmless sparks at each other to see whether their protective shields were working.<p>

"Protego," said George loudly, concentrating harder than he had done all week.

He looked over at Fred, who was cheerfully getting ready to make his mock attack. He remembered the last lot of sparks Fred had conjured, and felt slightly nervous. He didn't particularly want any part of his body or robes to end up like Flitwick's roll of parchment...

Fred raised his wand and grinned at George. He twiddled it between his fingers for a moment, enjoying watching George squirm with discomfort as a few sparks flew out of its tip, crackling like a firework. Fred had always had a particular aptitude for pyrotechnics. In fact, one of his first pieces of accidental magic had been to burn Percy's favourite book to a crisp after Percy 'confiscated' his teddy bear. Percy was inconsolable for days after the loss of _Douglas the Dog in Diagon Alley_.

"Oi, Fred, watch it with that stick, will you? My hair looks enough like it's on fire already, you don't actually have to burn it…" said George warily.

He clenched all the muscles in his face, concentrating hard on his shield charm. Fred's wand came swishing through the air, and… the shield held. George breathed a sigh of relief as the sparks sprayed off the side of the invisible bubble around him. He watched them land on the classroom floor, glowing like embers before fading away, and then grinned at Fred's disappointed expression.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, mate. It's not your fault I'm exceptionally talented," he said, slinging an arm over Fred's shoulders and winking.

"That was indeed very impressive, Mr Weasley," came Lyndon's voice from behind them, making Fred and George jump. "Actually, do you mind if I have a quick word with you two after the lesson?"

"Umm… OK," said Fred. He glanced over at George, who looked just as confused as he did.

"Good, just wait at my desk when the lesson's over," smiled Lyndon, and he headed off to check on a pair of Ravenclaw girls.

At the end of the lesson, Fred and George made their excuses to Lee and went to wait for Lyndon. He joined them as soon as the rest of the students had left the room, and sat down at his desk. The twins remained standing, looking quickly at each other before turning their attention to Lyndon.

"Fred, George," he began. The use of their first names was not lost on them. "I just wanted to have a little chat with you."

"We're all ears," said Fred weakly. George shot him another quick look, and saw his own suspicion echoed in his brother's eyes. It seemed highly unlikely that they would be asked to stay behind after a lesson for a friendly catch-up.

"Are you enjoying Hogwarts?" Lyndon asked them.

"Oh yes, it's great," they chorused.

"Good, good. And Hogsmeade? It's a very interesting place."

Again, George caught Fred's eye wildly. He drew in breath, and his heart started to beat faster. They hadn't thought that anyone had seen them, but was it possible that Lyndon had noticed them sneaking out of school?

"First Years aren't allowed in Hogsmeade, sir," said George, hoping they could bluff their way through.

"Of course not. Silly me," Lyndon beamed.

The twins began to calm. "Our older brothers Charlie and Percy have been," offered Fred. "You could ask them."

Lyndon ignored him. "How about the castle itself then? It's very entertaining. I myself stumbled through a tapestry just the other day and ended up on a totally different floor."

"That's… nice," George said unconvincingly. Lyndon chuckled.

"I imagine two adventurous boys like you have wasted no time in having a look around. Have you found anything interesting? Just between the three of us?"

"No, we haven't, not at all," said Fred in a firm voice.

"Nothing interesting whatsoever," George announced at the same time.

"Oh, what a pity. Make sure to tell me if you do," said Lyndon. His eyes seemed to have hardened slightly, and his voice no longer had the same jolly tone to it. He beckoned to the door abruptly and said, "Off you go. I'm sure you're dying to get to dinner."

The twins left without another word, keeping their suspicions silent until they were well out of the way of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"What the _hell _was that about?" burst out Fred, as soon as he decided it was safe to talk.

George shook his head, nonplussed. "It was like he was looking for something."

"It was a bloody interrogation, that's what it was!"

Fred continued to rant right the way up to the portrait of the Fat Lady outside Gryffindor Tower. George on the other hand kept quiet, thinking of the scroll they had found, somewhere between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade... The scroll they had found in a secret passage that he was sure Lyndon already knew about; he had mentioned it to someone in a conversation over the Floo network, right back at the start of the year. George decided he'd keep a close eye on the scroll from now on, and devote every spare moment to cracking its code.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I was going to go right up to their next detention with Snape and the snake skins in this chapter, but I decided that would make it too long. You have that to look forward to for the next update! I hope you liked the chapter, and as always, a review would make my day. :)<strong>


	11. Peeves the Poltergeist

**Disclaimer: I'm only messing around with these characters. They don't belong to me.**

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><p>Fred and George's Saturday passed in a blur of excitement, as they tried to work out how they were going to steal some snake skins from right under Snape's nose, preferably without being given too great a punishment afterwards. As Fred said, detention was one thing, but having a letter sent home to their parents and being murdered by their mother as a result was another kettle of fish completely. Finally, late in the evening when they were debating the matter, inspiration struck. It happened something like this:<p>

"We could use dungbombs, I suppose," said Fred.

He was sitting on the floor by his bed with George. The Marauder's Map was lying in front of them in a vague attempt for the twins to be motivated by their idols, and Fred was idly tracing dots on it as they moved about the castle.

"Nah, that won't work," George said. "We need something to distract Snape away from us so we can swipe the skins without him noticing and taking them back."

"Oh yeah."

There was a pause as they thought harder about the problem.

"Fireworks?" George suggested. "I could lob a sparkler or something out the door, might give us a couple of minutes."

"That could work," Fred agreed, but he sounded hesitant.

He stared down at the map for a moment, watching Peeves' dot bounce haphazardly around the trophy room. And then, "That's it!" he shouted, his eyes lighting up. "Peeves."

George's mouth fell slightly open, then he started to smile broadly. "It's insane, but…"

"But Peeves loves insane."

It was decided. The next morning they went to hunt Peeves down and convince him to help them. Thanks to the Marauder's Map, they soon found him throwing pieces of chalk around the empty Charms classroom.

"Hi, Peeves," said Fred as they walked in.

Peeves stopped upending a bin and swung around in mid-air to look at the twins. "Why look, it's Ickle Firsties, come to play," he said with an evil looking grin.

"We were hoping you'd help us," began George.

"And why would old Peevsie help the Firsties?" Peeves flipped over in the air to hover upside down and watch Fred and George from that angle.

"Because we like to cause havoc as much as you do."

Peeves rolled back over so he was upright again, and a pious expression came over his face. "Havoc? I should alert Professor Dumbledore, I should. Can't have students causing a fuss, it wouldn't be right."

"And we'll pay you."

Fred held up a bulging bag of dungbombs, Filibuster's Fireworks and bits of Zonko's merchandise. Peeves' eyes widened with unmistakeable greed, but Fred put the bag of tricks away again and said firmly, "Only when you help us."

Peeves glanced quickly around the room to check that they were alone. "Deal," he said.

"Good," smiled George, and together Fred and George explained to the poltergeist what they wanted him to do, and promised him his reward once he'd kept up his end of the bargain.

Peeves looked delighted at the idea, and he soon agreed, cackling maniacally. He surprised Fred and George by sweeping into a low bow, which he'd probably given to no student before them, and then burst out of the room, singing merrily to himself.

* * *

><p>Their detention was set to take place at seven that evening. Fred and George hadn't yet told Lee what they'd planned with Peeves – it was going to be a surprise. The three of them arrived on time in the dungeons. They set to work quickly, despite the fact the sight that awaited them of rows upon rows of ingredients to sort through filled them with a kind of hopeless despair.<p>

They worked steadily for about an hour. In fact, Snape looked quite suspicious that they were getting on with their work so quietly, but he didn't ask any questions and instead took the opportunity to scrawl a few crosses over some unfortunate students' Potions homework. Finally at eight o'clock, Fred heard someone blow a loud raspberry from outside the door, and Peeves burst in through the door, sending jars flying and sticking his tongue out at Snape.

Snape leapt up from his seat near the door. "Peeves!" he yelled. "Get out of my classroom at once!"

Peeves cocked his head on one side as if considering his options, and then said in an annoying sing-song voice, "Shan't do nothing if you don't say please."

"Peeves, I will call the Bloody Baron if you don't get out," Snape growled.

"I still didn't hear that 'please'!" trilled Peeves.

He beamed widely, but he took Snape's threat as his cue to leave, though not without doing his job first. He turned a few cartwheels in the air then went into a spectacular dive, sailing straight through the top shelf of the storeroom. He laughed wildly as the jars and bottles came crashing to the floor. Fred and George both covered their heads with their arms, watching in glee as the jars shattered and spilled their ingredients out across the room. Then Peeves grabbed an armful of containers and somersaulted out of the room, leaving a trail of something yellow and powdery behind him. Some of the ingredients on the floor had combined by now, and large clouds of acrid purple smoke were billowing up from the floor. Fred's eyes were streaming from the dust and smoke, but he caught a quick glance from George and the twins both stuck their thumbs up at each other.

It took a coughing Snape a couple of minutes to waft the smoke away with his wand, and by the time he could see again, Peeves was long gone. He snarled at the wreckage that had been left behind and spun to face Fred, George and Lee, who by now had their robes pulled up around their mouths, both to keep the smoke out and to hide their grins.

"Get out!" he shouted, pointing out of the classroom. "We'll continue your detention next week, once I've got that poltergeist out of the way."

He swept towards the door, propelling the three First Years in front of him as he went.

"Colloportus," he muttered as they reached the door, and Fred heard the faint click of the lock. "Now go, get back to your common room."

The twins and Lee nodded obediently and set off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. However, they stopped as soon as they'd turned a corner and waited tentatively as they heard Snape's footsteps fade away in the opposite direction.

"That was your plan?" Lee asked as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

"Yep," said George proudly.

"Genius," breathed Lee, and the twins took a moment to bow before turning back to the task at hand.

"OK," whispered Fred, "If we get back in now, we can swipe a couple of skins and be gone before he even catches up with Peeves."

"We told Peeves to get as far away from the dungeons as he could," George explained to Lee. "He might even have got into the Forbidden Forest if we're lucky."

They crept back to the dungeons, keeping a careful eye out for anyone else, and reached the door unseen. Fred rattled the door handle, and his suspicions were confirmed; Snape had locked the door behind him.

"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

"Allow me, gentlemen," said Lee grandly. He produced his wand with a flourish. "Alohomora."

Fred tried the handle again. Nothing happened. He kicked the door in frustration, groaning to himself. _Why_ hadn't he thought of this?

He turned to see George smirking. "What are you grinning about?" he said grumpily.

"Some of us thought to come prepared for this eventuality," said George, and he pulled a hairpin out of his pocket.

He shoved Fred aside and began twiddling it in the lock, his face screwed up in concentration, until another click was heard. George put the hairpin away again and swung the door open. Fred smiled appreciatively and they slipped into the Potions classroom again. Within minutes they had found the snake skins, which of course they had positioned themselves, and they were soon out of the dungeons again with a couple of skins safely hidden in George's pocket.

"Hang on," said Lee when they emerged. "Won't Snape notice the door's unlocked?"

"Oh yeah…" said George.

Fred thought hard for a second before pulling out his wand. "Colloport," he said hopefully, giving it a wave. He tried again to remember what spell Snape had used, until finally a word surfaced in his brain. "Colloportus."

This time the door locked. Fred and George heaved a joint sigh of relief and sped away back to their dormitory with Lee hot on their heels. They carefully put the snake skins away in George's trunk with the little figurine of Godric Gryffindor.

"Half way there," said Lee, as they all collapsed onto their beds, breathing hard and smiling from ear to ear.

Fred looked over at Lee's grinning face. His cheeks and nose were streaked with yellow dust and grime, and a bit of some kind of plant leaf clung in his hair. Fred started to laugh. He couldn't help it; it wasn't just Lee's appearance – it was a mixture of relief and exhilaration as well. He was soon joined by the other two, and they didn't stop for some time.

* * *

><p>The next week was a Hogsmeade weekend for anyone in Third Year or above. Fred and George, feeling gloomy about their next detention with Snape that evening, decided that it would be a good opportunity to show Lee the wonders of Honeydukes and Zonko's Joke Shop.<p>

"In any case," said Fred, examining his supply of trick items, "We need to stock up again after giving all that stuff away to Peeves."

Peeves had turned up the same night that he distracted Snape for them. He'd woken George up in the middle of the night by blowing into his ear, and then demanded his reward. In fact, even after he was given the promised bag of fireworks and dungbombs, he decided to wake Fred and Lee up too and then spent the rest of the night whizzing around the Gryffindor First Year boys' dormitory making the most annoying noises he could think of. Fred, George and Lee hadn't been able to get back to sleep at all, and as a result they'd spent all of Monday's lessons half-asleep and close to passing out on their desks from tiredness. Fred was lucky Professor Binns didn't hear him snoring in History of Magic first thing.

In any case, by the time the next Sunday came around they were desperate for something to do to distract them from their coming torture session with Snape.

"We'll just have to avoid Charlie and Percy," said George. "Don't want them telling on us to Mum…"

The twins shuddered at the thought of the Howler they'd receive if their mother ever found out that they'd been out of school without permission. And neither of them liked the thought of McGonagall if she discovered them either.

"Charlie's no problem though," Fred said, after a small pause. "He's keeping his Quidditch team back to practise. I heard him telling them last night."

"Bet they're happy," said George sarcastically. "First Hogsmeade weekend and all."

"Actually, Oliver Wood's eyes kind of glazed over and he started pumping his fist up and down and mumbling about how he needed to, and I quote, 'prove to those snakes that Gryffindor is bloody unbeatable!'" Fred punched the air as he said this, imitating Oliver's passion for Quidditch, and both he and George collapsed into laughter.

"Well anyway," said George, once he'd recovered himself. "At least we only have to both about Percy. Now come on!"

They ran off to find Lee and tell him about their plans, and in no time at all they had got out the Marauder's Map and were studying it carefully. They selected a different passageway this time, which had a statue of a one-eyed witch in front of it. They managed to avoid teachers as they made their way towards the passage, and soon they were inside a tunnel that led into Hogsmeade.

"Couldn't they have made it a bit bigger," grumbled Lee, who was now crawling. "This is starting to hurt my knees."

"Bit of pain never hurt anyone," said Fred.

There was a pause, and then, "Hang on… Are you sure?" said George, sounding a bit confused.

"Oh yeah. Well it comes with being a trouble-maker."

"You wouldn't want to be like Percy, would you, Lee?"

"Ugh, there'd be no fun in life at all if we were 'safe'," Fred scoffed.

"Ouch," said Lee. He'd just collided with Fred, who'd stopped in the middle of the tunnel to sketch quotation marks around the word 'safe' with his fingers.

Despite Lee's troubles, they were quickly out of the passageway, which had started to widen anyway. Fred brushed some dust off of his knees and peered around him, trying to work out where they were. They were in a room with no people, but filled with crates and boxes.

George and Lee emerged from the passageway from behind him. "Where are we?" asked George.

"Dunno." Fred crept out from behind the stack of boxes he'd ended up next to and looked into an open container. "Hey," he said quietly. "I think we're in the Honeydukes storage room, look at this."

George crossed over to look inside the box with him. It was filled with packets of Pepper Imps, which were all labelled with jaunty and brightly-coloured writing that said, "Breath fire for your friends! Buy one get one free, only for October!"

"So Honeydukes is just up there," George whispered.

Fred followed his gaze to a small flight of stairs. There was light coming through the crack around the door and, now he listened, there was definitely a large crowd on the other side of it too. Fred, George and Lee dashed up and slipped out through the door before anyone had a chance to come down and see them. There were indeed in Honeydukes.

"Wicked," exclaimed Fred, a grin lighting up his face. "We know where the sweets are kept!" He and George high-fived.

Lee meanwhile looked ecstatic at the sight that greeted them. He hadn't seen Honeydukes in all its glory before, and it was enough to fulfil anyone's wildest dreams. Soon they'd grabbed and paid for enough Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Fizzing Whizbees and more to last them easily until their next trip. Deciding that it would be a good idea to get away from the crowd of Hogwarts students (you never know, it could contain Percy) they made their way towards Zonko's.

"C'mon, course it's safe, you wouldn't get Percy in there if he was Imperiused!" Fred reasoned.

After Zonko's they headed for the Shrieking Shack. None of them had had a good look at the place yet, and anything that was potentially haunted seemed appealing to the twins. Apart from that, it seemed like a good idea to escape the crowds entirely so they didn't risk anyone recognising them.

A few minutes later, Fred and George were hanging over the face, staring avidly at the Shrieking Shack. A few minutes after that, they were hanging over the fence looking about as bored as if they were in class. Neither of them had particularly long attention spans.

"It doesn't _look _very haunted," George said eventually.

"I'm about sick of it. This is the kind of place Percy would come to willingly!" Fred said.

"Just for the history, or some rubbish like that," agreed George.

"Shall we get back to school then?" suggested Lee.

"Yeah, might as well," said George, stretching. He turned, and went suddenly white. "Merlin's pants."

"What's wrong?" said Fred, spinning around as well.

McGonagall was walking up the path towards the Shrieking Shack, accompanied by Professors Sprout and Flitwick. They were talking animatedly to each other and didn't seem to have noticed the three First Years. Of course, it was only a matter of time…

"Run!" said Lee.

The twins didn't need telling twice. The three of them sprinted along the side of the fence and down the hill, well away from their teachers' field of vision. They tore away across Hogsmeade until they got to Honeydukes again, where they sneaked down into the cellar, luckily unseen by the staff.

"That was a close one," panted George, who was bent over double inside the passageway, with his hands on his knees.

"Why," gasped Fred, "Do all our Hogsmeade trips seem to end up with us _running_ back to the passageway like we have a dragon on our tails?"

"Because we're awesome," George said.

"That was pretty awesome actually," agreed Lee. "Except the McGonagall bit. I thought we were goners."

"Honestly, Lee," said Fred, clapping him on the back. "You should trust us. When have we ever failed you?"

"Oh I don't know." Lee pretended to think. "Perhaps that time that I got detention with McGonagall and neither of you two did?"

"Yeah, well that was hilarious," sniggered George. "Come on, let's get back to school. I'm starving, we can have some sweets when we get back."

"'Kay." They set off.

"I didn't even see Percy," remarked George, when they were back at the Hogwarts end of the passageway. He was holding the Marauder's Map in front of him, his lit wand on the page so they could check their path was clear. "Did either of you notice him?"

"Nope. I think we got away with it," said Fred.

"Great! Mischief managed then," George grinned.

He glanced down at the Marauder's Map and then looked straight up again, his eyes wide with surprise. Fred nearly barrelled him over as he rushed to see what was so interesting. The map had gone completely blank. It looked just like the old bit of parchment they had originally assumed it was.

"George, Lee," he grinned. "I believe we have found another password."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I love Peeves, I wish he was in the films. Also, I have exciting news! I've finished planning the chapters out, and at the moment it looks like there will be twenty six, though that number could change slightly if something takes less or more space than I thought it would. Anyway, that's what you should expect. As always, I'd love it if you reviewed! They always make me really happy, positive or not, haha!<strong>


	12. Christmas

**Disclaimer: I'm having a bit of trouble finding a way to persuade JK Rowling to give me Harry Potter, so for now, it's still hers.**

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><p>Fred and George were delighted to have discovered how to wipe the Marauder's Map. It made them a lot more confident with the idea of carrying it around with them, and as a result they made several trips around the castle at night to explore. They had some narrow escapes from Mrs. Norris, but thanks to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, they always managed to get away before Filch arrived, wheezing and hoping to catch them in the act of breaking school rules.<p>

They continued in the same kind of routine and gradually the days stretched out into weeks, and the weeks into months, until suddenly it was the start of the Christmas holidays. They had got through a whole term of lessons, they'd finished off Snape's last few detentions (despite receiving yet another for hitting him in the back of the head with a snowball), and Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin at Quidditch after a spectacular catch from their Seeker right near the start of the game. This had lit a new fervor in Charlie, who said that they still stood a chance of winning the Quidditch Cup if they could beat Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff with good scores when they played against them.

So now Fred and George were standing on the station platform with Lee, ready to board the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas. George looked glumly at a small piece of paper held in his hands. In bold black letters, it told them that they were not allowed to perform any magic outside of school until they were of age, and that they risked expulsion from Hogwarts if they ignored the warning.

"I'd been looking forward to locking Great Aunt Muriel's legs together," he complained.

"And levitating Percy's glasses away from him," said Fred dreamily.

"And making a cracker blow up in Ron's face."

"And turning off all the lights in the house simultaneously."

George sighed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait a few more years…"

"We'll just have to torture Ron when he comes to school," said Fred.

"Didn't you know you weren't allowed to do magic?" asked Lee. "I mean, your brothers came here."

"Yeah, but we thought they were just boring and rule-abiding," shrugged George. "We didn't know they'd actually _expel _you."

"If we had, we would have stolen Percy's wand and got him chucked out," said Fred, a smile lighting up his face at the thought.

"You would have done _what_?" came an angry roar from behind them.

"Oops," sang Fred, and he darted off into the train with Percy hot on his heels and looking furious.

George and Lee followed them in a little way behind, giggling at Fred's misfortune. They found him hiding inside an empty compartment with his hands clamped over his mouth to stop a laugh from escaping. When they slid the door open, he jumped in surprise and leapt up, thinking they were Percy come to berate him.

"Only us, mate," grinned George. Fred looked slightly sheepish.

They were soon joined in their compartment by Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, and they spent an enjoyable ride to King's Cross playing Exploding Snap, swapping Chocolate Frog Cards, and discussing Quidditch teams and tactics (Angelina and Alicia both favoured the Holyhead Harpies, Fred and George liked Puddlemere United, and Lee was an avid supporter of the Falmouth Falcons). They reached the platform late that afternoon and got ready to go their separate ways. Fred and George were, of course, going back to the Burrow, Alicia was staying over at Angelina's house for Christmas, and Lee was going skiing with his family.

As soon as they stepped off the train, Fred and George were swept into a tight hug from their mother.

"Have you been good?" she asked them sternly.

"Of course. Don't you trust us?," Fred and George replied together in the sweetest voices they possessed.

"No. When are they ever good?" said Percy at the same time, glaring at them.

Molly sighed and let the matter drop. Whatever they'd done or hadn't done was over now, and without sending an owl to Professor McGonagall, there was no way to prove it. Besides, knowing the twins, it was lucky for everyone that they hadn't decided to blow up the dungeons yet.

Ginny pushed her way past her mother and stared up at Fred and George. She crossed her arms and said, "Next term, you're writing to me more often."

"Sorry, Gin," said George awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

"They kept us busy with homework and stuff," said Fred.

"Don't call me Gin! And I know perfectly well you couldn't care less about homework. You went and left me with only _him_ for company. He hasn't stopped talking about the Chudley Canons all term!" Ginny flung out an arm to point at nine-year-old Ron, who glanced up, looking slightly frightened, and flushed.

Fred and George laughed at Ron's expression and Charlie reached out to ruffle his hair, ignoring Ron's attempts to shrug his hand off. Once Molly's back was turned, the twins made a whispered promise to Ginny that they'd teach her about all the secret passageways they'd found in school as a way to make it up to her. They waved goodbye to Lee, who was talking animatedly to his parents, and slid through the barrier and into the Muggle world.

* * *

><p>Christmas at the Burrow was always one of the highlights of Fred and George's year. Their family was so big that it couldn't fail to be noisy and busy, and that was the kind of atmosphere that they revelled in. It was even better now that Great Aunt Muriel refused to come to the Burrow on Christmas Day, much to the relief of the entire Weasley family, ever since Fred and George set off some dung bombs underneath her chair when they were about seven. Unfortunately, she still seemed to feel that it was her duty to turn up during the holiday to have a good moan about anything and everything, just to ruin Christmas. This particular year, she came for dinner a few days before Christmas.<p>

"Your hair's getting much too long, William," she said loudly to Bill.

"I know, you tell me that every year," Bill muttered, so only Fred, George and Charlie, who were sitting nearest to him, could hear. "Honestly, I might as well have stayed in Egypt."

Next Muriel turned her gaze to Arthur. "Still fiddling with Muggle things, Arthur? I would've thought you would have moved on by now to something more worthwhile."

"Well, Muriel, it is my job, you know," he said, twisting uncomfortably in his seat.

"And the two of you," she practically screeched, jabbing a bony finger in the direction of Fred and George. "I can barely tell you apart, it's unnatural. I'm over one hundred years old, you ought to be more helpful!" she finished, acting for all the world as if it was a deliberate ploy on the part of the twins to be identical. Not that they'd change it if they could.

"That's not their fault, Muriel," pointed out Molly, who couldn't bear having her children criticised for something beyond their control.

"All the same… That one's Frederick, is it not?" Muriel pointed at Fred.

Fred looked slightly crestfallen for a moment that she'd got it right, and then apparently decided not to let it bother him. "No, I'm George," he lied smoothly.

"No you're not, I'm George!" gasped the real George, turning to his twin in indignation.

"You're _not_," Fred insisted. He waved a hand vaguely at George's left cheek. "See, that freckle there, obviously you're Fred."

George picked up a spoon and stared at his reflection. "Oh yes, so I am," he said eventually in a tone of wonder. "Sorry about that little mix-up, George."

"Quite all right, Fred," said Fred generously, patting George on the arm.

"All right, you two, cut it out," said Arthur finally, after watching the exchange, smiling amusedly.

Annoyingly for the twins and thankfully for their parents, Muriel hadn't even noticed, as she had now turned to Charlie and started berating him for his dreams of working with dragons once he left Hogwarts. ("Really, Charles, that's no kind of job for a young man like you. You should be doing something proper, like working in the Ministry.")

The rest of the dinner passed harmlessly enough. The Weasleys sank gradually deeper into boredom as Muriel droned on an on at them, describing in great detail the faults of every Minister of Magic for the last seventy years and her various cousins' opinions on the older ones.

"It's not that Barnabas was necessarily a bad Minister, but he was a simply _dreadful_ man," cried Muriel happily. "He had his wife under the Imperius Curse, so I've heard, and I wouldn't put it past him. He had a nasty, rat-like face, he looked just like the kind of wizard who'd do something like that."

"That's very interesting, Muriel, you really will have to tell us more about it next time you visit," said Molly, desperately trying to force Muriel out of the door without appearing too rude.

Finally, Great Aunt Muriel was gone.

George sank down onto the sofa with a sigh of relief. "Another year of freedom… Forge," he said to Fred, with a wink.

"Right you are, Gred!" Fred grinned back.

"You shouldn't wind her up like that; you're lucky she didn't pay too much attention to you," Molly scolded them. "Though I can't deny I'm glad she's gone."

"Come on, Mum, give us a break. It's Christmas!" Fred said lazily, stretching himself out on the sofa next to George.

"That reminds me, Celestina Warbeck's on the wireless sometime around now!" said Molly cheerfully.

The rest of the Weasleys grimaced as she started to twiddle the dials on the little portable wireless in front of her. Within seconds, she had tuned into the middle of _A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love_, one of her favourite songs and one of the twins' least favourite. George groaned as Celestina sang a particularly shrill and piercing note, and buried his face in Fred's shoulder to block out the sound.

"Don't be so melodramatic, George," Molly said, rolling her eyes at him. "It wouldn't be Christmas without Celestina."

* * *

><p>Finally, amid much excitement, Christmas Day arrived. George woke up very suddenly as Fred's pillow hit him in the face.<p>

"It's four in the morning, Fred," he moaned, looking at the watch next to his bed through bleary eyes.

"Four in the morning on Christmas!" Fred announced.

At that, George's eyes snapped fully open and he quickly pulled himself into a sitting position, his stomach fizzing with delicious anticipation. Fred was sitting on the edge of his bed, bobbing up and down in excitement, and there was a small pile of brightly-wrapped presents on the end of each of their beds. George drew in a deep breath through his nose. The air had a cold, crisp feel that he always associated with Christmas after years of waking up hours before the rest of the family – the kind of feeling that it could only have in the middle of the night.

The twins both attacked their presents. It had become a tradition for them to open their gifts and fling wrapping paper around the house before anyone else got up, even though Molly told them off for it every year and said that they should have waited. Fred and George stubbornly insisted that their presents shouldn't be on the end of their beds if they weren't allowed to give in to temptation.

"Look, it's the ever popular Weasley jumper," said Fred, as he pulled the paper of a dark blue woollen jumper, which had a yellow 'F' emblazoned on the middle.

George rummaged around in his pile until he found a matching present, though with a 'G' instead. He chucked the jumper over to Fred, who in turn flung his onto George's bed. They both pulled them on, sniggering to themselves as they looked down at the wrong letters on their chests.

Slowly the pile of wrapping paper and string around them grew, as it was removed from some Honeydukes sweets from Lee, a Beater's bat each from Charlie, who knew they were hoping to try out for the Gryffindor team the next year, and some Quidditch gloves from their parents.

"Oh, look at this," said George, holding up a rectangular package from Percy. "Bet it's a book."

He tore the wrapping off to reveal what was indeed a thick, dull-looking book entitled _150 Ways to Succeed in Exams_. Fred had been given a similar edition called _150 Ways to Revise Effectively_.

"Typical Percy," laughed Fred. "Already getting ready for the end of year exams!"

"There's a card," said George. He read it out:

_Dear George,  
>It's never too early to start your revision, and I thought you might need some encouragement. Remember, these exams are essential for you to get into your Second Year and complete your education!<br>Best wishes,  
>Your brother, Percy<em>

"Best wishes," snorted George. "Honestly, he's our brother! Best wishes…"

"And revision?" said Fred. "I think not."

He opened up his book and bent it open at the spine, running a finger over it to make it look slightly worn. He then folded over the corner of a page as if he had been reading it and had marked his place, and then dumped the book unceremoniously back on his bed.

"That should fool him," he said in a satisfied voice.

They still had a little while left before the other Weasleys would wake up, so Fred and George slipped quietly out into the garden in their pyjamas. They'd been keeping an eye on the Christmas tree in the living room, and as much as they liked it, they were horribly conscious of the fact that it had no angel or fairy on the top. They decided to take the matter into their own hands.

George shivered as he stepped onto the frosty grass with his bare feet.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," sang Fred quietly, looking around the garden.

"Ah! There's one!" said George, pointing behind a bush.

A small leathery gnome was peeping out from behind the shrubbery. As Fred and George advanced towards it with their arms stretched out it squealed, and began to run away towards the fence.

"Oh no you don't," said Fred menacingly.

He reached out a hand and grabbed the gnome by one of its scrawny legs. The gnome kicked out at him and attempted to sink its sharp little teeth into Fred's hand, but Fred twisted it away so it couldn't reach. The twins carried it back into the Burrow, wincing every time it let out a particularly loud squawk and hoping nobody would wake up.

"Gerroff me!" squeaked the gnome.

"Shut it, you," George told it.

"Wait a sec, I just need to get something," said Fred, handing the gnome over to George and dashing off into the kitchen.

He reappeared a minute later clutching a roll of Spellotape. He waved it threateningly at the gnome.

"We'll gag you with this if you don't shut up."

The gnome opened its mouth to shriek, and then thought better of it. It snapped its jaws shut again and glared sulkily at the twins.

"That's better."

Soon the gnome's legs were Spellotaped to the topmost branches of the Christmas tree. It waved its tiny fists at Fred and George, but stayed silent, still too frightened to make a noise and risk being gagged. George looked at it critically for a moment and then ran to get some silver and gold glitter that they had used to make homemade Christmas cards when they were younger. He dumped copious amounts over the gnome, and then stepped back and smiled at their handiwork, which was glaring furiously at them and kicking its legs as hard as it could while they were stuck to a tree branch.

"Truly beautiful," said George, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

"We have to do this every year," agreed Fred. "Such a perfect angel."

"_What _are you doing to that gnome?" came a fierce voice from behind them.

They twins swung around. Their mother had entered the room.

"We were just… erm… decorating the tree," they stuttered.

Molly placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes dangerously at them. This was enough to make Fred and George leap at once towards the tree and begin untying the gnome.

"And get it out of the garden while you're at it," called Molly after them as they headed for the door, gnome in hand.

"OK, OK," muttered Fred, rolling his eyes. The gnome took advantage of his moment of weakness and bit Fred's finger. It looked up at Fred, its mouth stretching out into a wide smile. "Ouch. Little git."

He swung the gnome round and round his head in circles and released it at the height of its speed. It flew out in a wide arch and landed far off in the field beyond the garden. Fred and George trooped back inside, where the rest of the family had now accumulated for breakfast.

The day passed happily. The older Weasley children spent most of the afternoon up the hill near the Burrow playing Quidditch. Though they didn't have any Bludgers, Fred and George insisted on carrying their new bats with them. They had great fun taking huge swings at the imaginary Bludger, which eventually ended with Fred diving to the ground dramatically yelling at George, "You've killed me!"

Unfortunately, the moment he picked to do this was the precise one when Molly emerged from the house to see how they were getting on. Her lips thinned as she saw Fred writhing on the floor pretending to be mortally wounded, and she called them in to get ready for dinner. The dinner in question was delicious. Molly had outdone herself, cooking a huge turkey and mounds of golden potatoes, carrots, parsnips and sausages, all smothered in gravy, which were enough to fill even Ron's stomach. By the end of the meal, everyone was feeling too lazy to do anything other than sit near the fire and pull a couple of crackers. Fred and George started a half-hearted game of chess, after they got a portable set from a cracker, but in the end Fred was much too amused at the pink bonnet George had decided to wear to concentrate on his end of the game.

Eventually, late that night, they collapsed into bed, worn out but happy.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Christmas and the Weasleys, yay! I'm not sure that I wrote it very well though… I'd welcome any advice or constructive criticism etc. I'm very much enjoying Pottermore at the moment, by the way! If anyone wants to add me as a friend, feel free. My username's GobletShadow24334 and I'm a Ravenclaw. Woohoo, Ravenclaw pride! :) Drop me a review or a PM if you do add me though, just so I know who you are. <strong>


	13. Manticores

**Disclaimer: You all know perfectly well that I don't own this. Surely I don't have to keep on saying it?**

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><p>Before they knew it, Fred and George were back at school for the new term, and straight into their lessons again. They were currently trudging through a thick sheet of snow on the ground, hands dug deep into their pockets, on the way back to the castle from Herbology.<p>

"So, only two objects to go before we get to try this challenge thing," said George, breaking the companionable silence.

"Yep. Slytherin and Gryffindor are done, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw left," Fred replied, ticking off the houses on his fingers.

George frowned. "I was thinking-"

"Thinking? You?" interrupted Fred, gasping theatrically.

George hit him on the arm. "Yeah, thinking. We probably ought to start working on cracking that scroll's clue."

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Fred, returning grudgingly to seriousness. He kicked a pile of snow and continued hopelessly, "I just have no idea where to start. I mean, we're not Percy."

"Of course not! We're much cleverer, funnier and more charming than that prat. We just don't suck up to teachers," George grinned.

"You're right. We're Fred and George bloody Weasley, of course we can do this!"

They pulled out the scroll as soon as they got back to Gryffindor tower and got straight down to work. After several minutes of staring at it blankly, Fred's very limited concentration span reached its end, and he pulled out his wand and began tapping the scroll, muttering random words and spells under his breath.

"Lumos," he tried.

"For the last time, Fred, that is not going to do anything!" George sighed.

Fred ignored him. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he tried as a last resort.

Still nothing. George planted his face in the middle of his pillow and groaned. "It's no use, we're never going to get it."

"I didn't think I'd ever say this," said Fred slowly, "But I have a nasty feeling that... we need Percy."

"We can't show him this! He'd go straight to McGonagall," cried George. "Or worse, Mum."

"No, but we could try to get some ideas off him on how to do it, if we're subtle enough about it," suggested Fred.

A couple of minutes later they were sitting crouched next to the portrait hole, eyeing all the other Gryffindors who came in like a couple of evil-looking gremlins. After what seemed like forever, a pair of Fourth Years skirted nervously around Fred and George to reveal Percy. Percy sighed loudly; it was now the second time this year he'd walked into the common room to find his younger brothers lying in wait for him, and he wasn't sure that he liked it. In fact, he looked rather scared at their identical grins. In fact, Fred could have sworn he heard Percy mutter, "They look almost demonic," as he began to edge backwards.

"Percy, Percy!" Fred and George yelled together.

"What is it now?" Percy said through gritted teeth, giving up his attempt to back out of the common room to safety.

"We were wondering if we could have some help," began George.

"You see, we've been taking part in… erm…"

"Code-breaking Club," supplied George.

"Yeah, that," said Fred, sounding relieved.

"You? Willingly taking part in an extra school activity?" snorted Percy. "Don't make me laugh."

"Percy!" gasped Fred. "Our own brother making fun of us…"

"We plucked up the courage to ask for your help-"

"-Since we admire you and all-"

"-And you don't even believe we're telling the truth," finished George. He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, wiping away imaginary tears and then stopped quite quickly, realising it looked more than a bit over the top.

"All right, all right," said Percy, holding his hands up in the air in surrender. "What do you want to know?"

The twins both smiled happily, all traces of misery gone at once. Fred thought hard, trying to work out how to explain without giving too much away.

"If you had a piece of writing," he said slowly.

"And it looked totally normal, but you knew there was a hidden message in it," added George.

"How would you go about solving it?" said Fred.

Percy's eyes glazed over as he thought, and Fred and George waited expectantly. At last he said, "You could have a look at the first word of each line? Or pick out words in a certain pattern, if that doesn't work."

"Thanks, Perce!" Fred and George said in unison, and they disappeared into their dormitory again without another word.

"OK. First word of each line," said Fred, once they were away from Percy's prying eyes.

George squinted at the scroll. "Days a chooses however respect are will you many decide challenge strengths of," he said uncertainly, scrawling the words on a spare bit of parchment for safe-keeping.

Fred stared at him in bewilderment for a moment. "Hmm… Maybe not."

"How about first word of each sentence," suggested George.

"OK." Fred grabbed George's quill to jot down the words. As he wrote he muttered, "Days anyone reaching knowledge find only round even so this."

They continued to try every word pattern they could come up with – the third word on every other row, the second to last word followed by the first, followed by Merlin knows what – but none of it seemed to make sense.

"Why does nothing we try work?" groaned George eventually, flopping backwards onto his bed.

Suddenly Lee's voice came from the door to the dormitory, where he had just entered. "What isn't working?"

"We're trying to crack this bloody code and we asked Percy and he said to look at the first word of each line so we did and nothing happened and then we tried some more stuff and that didn't work either and now we're stuck," explained Fred, very fast and in one breath.

"Calm down, mate!" said Lee, holding up his hands. "Let's have a look."

Fred shoved the scroll and the parchment they'd been writing on to Lee, who picked it up and studied it carefully. Fred and George sat quietly for about thirty seconds until they became too restless to wait any longer.

"So what do you think?" burst out Fred.

"Patience, grasshopper," said Lee infuriatingly, holding up one finger.

"Grasshopper? What are you talking about? Is that some Muggle thing?" asked George, wearing a confused expression, but Lee just glared at him and raised his finger again.

Finally, a grin spread over Lee's face and he jumped up from his sitting position on the floor. "Got it!" he yelled.

"What is it, what is it?" the twins clamoured.

"First you have to tell me how brilliant I am," said Lee, smiling wickedly.

Fred and George stared at him. "How can we tell you that when we don't even know what you've found?"

"You're master liars; make something up."

"But-"

Lee cut in. "Or you don't hear about my amazing discovery," he smirked.

"I'm not even sure that it's worth it, George," said Fred, shaking his head sadly.

"Me neither, Fred, me neither," George agreed.

"Oh well in that case, I'll just give you back this scroll and let you work something out yourself," said Lee, looking from one to the other of them.

"All right, you win," said Fred grudgingly, after a pause. "Lee, our wonderful friend..."

"You have always been the genius of our group…"

"May your brilliance continue to shine forth and bring you ever-lasting happiness, yada yada yada, now tell us what you've found, you git!"

"Well, it was easy," began Lee, "At least for someone of my remarkable brain-power. You see-"

"Get to the point," interrupted George.

Lee scowled at him. "Fine. You see this bit where you've taken the first word of each sentence?" He pointed to the point on the parchment that he was referring to.

"You can't seriously be telling us that 'days knowledge' whatever it was is the answer?" said Fred incredulously.

"No, of course not," Lee said, rolling his eyes. "But try it with the first letters instead."

George leant over the parchment, his eyes flicking between each word. "D… Da… Dark…"

"Dark forest!" Fred yelled, jubilantly.

"We've done it, we've done it, we've done it!" chanted Fred and George, beginning some kind of war dance in the centre of the dormitory.

Lee started laughing at them, but he was cut off within seconds, as he found himself swept into the middle of Fred and George's celebratory dance and swung in circles as the twins stomped around him, waving their arms in the air wildly.

* * *

><p>It was the next morning, and Fred, George and Lee were on their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts from breakfast. They reached the classroom and sat down together in their place at the back of the room.<p>

"I still can't believe we've worked out that scroll," said Lee happily.

Fred glanced around to check that they weren't being watched, and said quietly, "Yeah, I've always wanted to go into the Forbidden Forest. Now we've got an excuse! Just something from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and then- What, George?"

George had jabbed Fred in the side, cutting him off mid-sentence. He nodded warningly over to their left, where Professor Lyndon had drifted towards their desks. Fred's stomach gave a small lurch as he saw the teacher, and he instantly stared down fixedly at his textbook, crossing his fingers tightly beneath his desk in the hope that Lyndon hadn't heard enough to work out what they were talking about. However, Lyndon just moved away back to the front of the room, without even looking at the twins, and Fred allowed himself to heave a sigh of relief.

"All right, class. Today we'll be starting on how to defend yourself from dangerous creatures," said Lyndon. He waved his wand at the blackboard, and a piece of white chalk flew up and scribbled out a spider diagram of different magical creatures so fast that it looked blurred. "Turn to page 53 of your books, and we'll be started."

Fred sighed; he much preferred the practical lessons when he could shoot spells at people. However, he picked up his book and flipped it open to the right page anyway. At once, he was no longer disappointed, as he was greeted by a picture of one of the most vicious-looking beasts he could imagine. At first glance, it looked rather like a lion, but it had a giant scorpion's tail, sharpened into a lethal sting, and several rows of glistening teeth. However, most shocking was the face. It seemed almost manlike, but it was twisted into such a savage expression that the human features began to look bestial. There were several gasps from around the room. No doubt the First Years were wondering exactly how likely it was that they'd come across something like this any time soon… It was precisely the type of picture that could attract an eleven year old boy with ease.

"Wicked," Fred and George whispered together.

"This," Lyndon said, "is a manticore. It's one of the most ferocious creatures in our world. They are very rare, but very dangerous. The sting of a manticore will kill you instantly – they shoot the stings from their tails, and another will grow back in its place in a couple of seconds. It is said that the manticore likes to sing to its victims as it eats their bodies." A few people shuddered at that.

Fred and George continued to listen, captivated, as Lyndon told them more about manticores. He explained how their skin was so hard that it repelled all but the most powerful of spells and charms, making it extremely difficult to defeat them magically.

Lee raised his hand. "Then how _do_ you defeat them?" he asked worriedly.

"Good question, Jordan," Lyndon replied. "One of the only known triumphs over a manticore was by a witch named Loretta Vasquez. She was in a forest, and she succeeded in felling several trees at once to capture the manticore, giving her time to run. While the manticore was trapped, its body was bent to the point that it accidentally fired one of its own stings into its mouth, thus killing itself."

"So it wasn't her… It defeated itself," Lee pointed out.

"That's true, but it was still credited to her because she was the one who put it in that position," Lyndon said. Lee nodded, though he looked doubtful.

"Have you ever seen one, sir?" said Alicia.

Lyndon nodded at her. "I have, once in my youth."

"How did you escape?" she said in an awed voice, as a storm of muttering broke out through the class.

"I ran," smiled Lyndon.

At that point, the bell rang for the end of the lesson, and with a great scraping of chairs, the students all got up and filed out of the room, talking excitedly to each other about the lesson, the manticore, and what they'd do if they ever saw one.

"I'd probably run away screaming," Fred heard a Ravenclaw girl admit to her friend.

"Well I think it'd be awesome," he said boldly to George and Lee.

"Would it now?" said Lee skeptically. "Awesome or fatal? Care to clarify?"

Fred considered for a moment. "Probably both," he confessed eventually.

"I'd just – bam! With the trees and all! And then I'd stand laughing and watch it die," grinned George, creating a violent explosion with his arms as he said 'bam'.

"And if there weren't any trees?" said Fred.

"I'd magic some."

"And if you couldn't?"

"I would be able to, 'cause I'm brilliant," George insisted firmly.

The good-natured argument lasted them right the way to their next lesson, Transfiguration. Even then, Fred and George continued it under their breath until McGonagall finally lost patience and deducted ten points from Gryffindor.

"Ten points!" Fred moaned. "But professor, it's your own house…"

"Quiet, Weasley, or it will be ten more," threatened McGonagall, and Fred quickly shut his mouth.

Once they got out of Transfiguration, Fred, George and Lee headed off to the Gryffindor common room to dump their books in their dormitory before lunch, Fred complaining bitterly about the ten points that they'd lost as they walked.

"Honestly, you'd think she'd want Gryffindor to win the House Cup! But still she takes off points from us!" he said.

"It doesn't matter, we've lost tonnes of points from other teachers," Lee reassured him. "Flobberworm," he added to the Fat Lady. It was the new Gryffindor password.

The portrait hole swung open and they climbed in, and then Fred continued with his rant about McGonagall. "Snape's always giving the Slytherins extra points. Why can't McGonagall favour us a bit?" He shook his head in disappointment.

"You want to be like the Slytherins?" said George incredulously.

"OK, fair point, but still! Ten points! Ten!"

By this point, they had reached their dormitory. Fred chucked his bag down onto the bed, and then was struck by a sudden thought.

"Hey, George," he said. "What did you do with the scroll? We should probably hide it or something."

"Oh yeah, good idea." George opened up a drawer in his bedside cabinet. He rummaged around for a moment around the bits of rubbish that had accumulated in it and then raised his head again. "OK, very funny, where've you put it?"

Fred turned his head sharply. "I haven't put it anywhere. Have you lost it?"

George looked him calculatingly in the eye. Fred tried to communicate in his gaze that he was telling the truth, and after a couple of seconds George seemed to come to the decision that he trusted his brother. As one, the twins turned from each other and began to search through their room. Lee quickly joined them, looking everywhere they could think of for the missing scroll. An hour later, lunch was very nearly over, Fred's stomach was rumbling, and they still hadn't found the scroll.

"It's gone," said Lee eventually, sounding shocked. "Someone's taken it."

Fred stared around them at the mess of clothes, parchment and books they had created during their search. He found it hard to believe that anyone could have found the scroll without making a mess like this. He supposed they just used magic to find it, or to clear up after themselves. He cursed himself for not thinking of hiding the scroll earlier.

"Any sign of anything else missing?" said Lee.

George dived at once into his trunk to check for the Slytherin and Gryffindor items they had managed to find. "They're still here, thank Merlin," he said at last, letting out a relieved breath.

He pulled out the figurine of Godric Gryffindor and the snake skins and showed them to Fred and Lee. That was something; it would be a lot worse if those had gone missing too. But all the same – someone had the scroll. Someone knew what they were planning and where they were going, or at least they would do in a matter of time, once they worked out the clues.

Fred dropped his head so that his fingers were pressed into his hair. "What are we going to do now?" he said wearily.

George squared his shoulders. "Get to those last two items and into the forest before anyone else has a chance."

The race was on.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm not sure when I'll next be able to update (I'm back at school tomorrow, with my GCSEs starting soon after, so I don't think I'll have much time to write), but I'll try to post the next chapter as quickly as I can. You know the drill – reviews would make my day. Week. Year. Thank you very much to everyone who has so far! :P<strong>


	14. The Hogwarts Kitchens

**Disclaimer: I don't make money off this, I just do it for fun. Want to know why? Because I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own it.**

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><p>A couple of weeks later, Fred and George still hadn't found something that they could easily relate to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. They were beginning to get agitated; they were sure that whoever had taken the scroll would be doing their best to take part in this challenge, and they were determined to get there first.<p>

However, on Saturday morning they forgot their troubles, as another Quidditch game came around for Gryffindor, this time against Ravenclaw. Ten o'clock in the morning found Fred, George and Lee in the stands, bundled up in thick red and gold scarfs against the rain that was lashing down around them. Charlie hadn't looked too happy about the conditions that earlier that morning. When Fred and George woke up, they'd come down to the common room to see him staring miserably out of the window at the dark clouds and rain, but he'd gritted his teeth and gone down to the pitch to get ready without complaint.

"Go Gryffindor!" cheered George, as they waited for the game to begin.

This match was important. If they won, Gryffindor would still stand a chance for the Quidditch Cup, as long as they could beat Hufflepuff as well with a good score.

A few minutes later, the two teams flew out to a storm of applause and foot-stamping from the Gryffindors and the sea of blue and bronze that was Ravenclaw. It seemed Quidditch was popular enough that most of the school had turned up to watch despite the freezing cold weather.

Madame Hooch's whistle sounded. The fourteen broomsticks rose into the air and the game begun. It progressed slowly. A couple of shots were attempted by the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors, but all were easily blocked by the respective Keepers. Oliver Wood was looking particularly determined after the fiasco of the match against the Slytherins. In fact, if he let the Quaffle in even once more, the Gryffindor were slightly worried about what the effect on his mental health would be…

About five minutes into the game, a thought struck George. He elbowed Fred sharply in the arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" grumbled Fred, rubbing his arm.

"Sorry, I just suddenly had an idea," said George apologetically.

"Next time, do me a favour and just tell me," Fred said. "What is it?"

"We're playing the Ravenclaws," said George excitedly.

"I got that much." Fred rolled his eyes. "Blimey, George, you're giving me a bruise just for that?"

"The Ravenclaw team's left all their stuff in their changing room. There's bound to be something we can nick for a Ravenclaw object if we go and have a quick poke around before the game finishes," George explained.

Fred's eyes widened in comprehension. "You think we have enough time?"

"It'll take _ages_ for them to catch the Snitch in weather like this," said George. "If we go now, I'm sure we can manage it."

He was right. Apart from the rain, there was a thick haze of fog over the pitch, which was making the visibility absolutely terrible. The only way Charlie or the Ravenclaw Seeker, Hilliard, would see the Snitch was if it tried to fly up one of their nostrils.

"All right, let's go for it," said Fred quickly.

Lee leaned over from his seat next to Fred. "I'm in too."

The three First Years got up and squeezed out of the stands through the crowd, ignoring the annoyed mutters from the other Gryffindors as they pushed their way past. Once they'd checked that nobody was looking their way and the coast was clear from teachers, they ran down the side of the pitch and slipped into the Ravenclaws' changing room.

The Ravenclaw team had left their normal school robes and bags at the side of the room. Lee at once ran over to start searching methodically through the Ravenclaws' things for something they could use to represent that house. Fred had stuck his head straight into one of the bags and was rummaging around inside as if he owned it. George followed them both over to the side of the room and began to examine a pile of robes, feeling slightly awkward as he ran his hands through them.

After a couple of minutes of searching, Fred wandered over into the middle of the room. "Look at this," he said, sounding interested and beckoning his twin over.

George quickly joined him to see what he'd found. It was a large board filled with moving arrows, circles and dots of different colours. It was labelled 'Quidditch Tactics', and it seemed to have a diagram for almost any possible position the Ravenclaws could find themselves in. George studied the one nearest to him in astonishment. It showed the Gryffindor hoops, and had three labelled blobs, depicting each of the Ravenclaw Chasers. Another smaller dot for the Quaffle was moving between them. Several arrows pointed from it to each of the hoops, with some complicated-looking Arithmancy scribbled above them to show the likelihood of scoring from each spot. The numbers were changing rapidly as the Quaffle moved around, to the point that it made George's eyes hurt to look at it for too long.

"Bloody hell," whispered Fred, flabbergasted. "That's so typical of Ravenclaw!"

"Charlie'd have a field day if he saw this," laughed George.

"You, know I bet this would do for a Ravenclaw item…" said Fred slowly.

"Well, yeah, but only if we could steal it without anyone noticing," said George.

Fred pulled a face. "Good point."

"No need to worry," announced Lee from the side, pulling his head up from a Ravenclaw's bag. "I've found something."

"Good one, mate," said George happily. "Let's see it then."

Lee held out his hand. In his palm was a small badge, which showed the Ravenclaw crest of the eagle in glittering blue glass.

"It was pinned to one of their bags," he explained.

George nodded and smiled. "That'll do; they'll probably just think it fell off."

He actually felt quite relieved – he'd been feeling a bit bad about the idea of stealing from other students, though he would never have admitted it, so he felt better about taking something small. He was sure it wouldn't be missed.

Suddenly the voice of the announcer floated into the room (Lee ground his teeth together in annoyance), and the noise of the crowd became instantly wilder. "The Seekers are both streaking upwards, they've seen the Snitch!"

Fred gasped. "Scram!" he shouted over the screams from the school outside.

George and Lee didn't hesitate to follow Fred's orders. They all ran as fast as they could out of the changing room and away across the grounds, praying that everyone would be too busy watching Charlie and Hilliard fighting for the Snitch to concentrate on a few First Years at ground level.

Fred, George and Lee tore around the stands and continued to run until they were next to the lake. They flopped down onto the grass, panting and not even caring that it was still wet. Faintly, they could hear the last words of commentary from the Quidditch match.

"Weasley catches the Snitch, Gryffindor wins 190 to 30!"

"Yay," cheered George feebly, before dropping his head back onto the grass.

"Bloody sun," muttered Fred, glaring up at the sky, which had obviously cleared rapidly after they had gone into the Ravenclaw changing room.

"Just when we want it to stay behind a cloud and give us a bit of time, it had to come out and almost ruin everything," said George.

"Still, we managed it, and we have the third item," said Lee, his eyes lighting up. "Just Hufflepuff to go, and then it's off to the Forest!"

"Yeah, and Gryffindor won the match!" Fred cried jubilantly. "We can still get the cup!"

* * *

><p>When they reached the Gryffindor common room, it was to find a party in full swing. Everyone was delighted at Gryffindor's renewed chances of winning the Quidditch Cup, and Fred, George and Lee threw themselves into the celebration with gusto. After a few minutes, the twins fought their way through the crowd to Charlie, who was beaming widely as he was congratulated by nearly every member of the house.<p>

"Nice catch!" they said together.

"Did you see it?" Charlie asked enthusiastically. "Hilliard was right about to catch it, and I was above, so I had to do the Sloth Grip Roll to knock him out of the way, and-"

"Well, actually we didn't see it," Fred admitted.

"We were too busy trying to sneak into the Ravenclaw changing room," added George happily.

Fred glared at him and kicked him in the shin, but the damage was done.

The grin fell from Charlie's face instantly. "You were doing what?" he said weakly.

"Oh, nothing, we just wanted to have a look around," said George airily.

"We want to visit every room before the end of the year," said Fred.

Luckily, Charlie accepted their story easily.

"Just don't tell Percy, OK? Or he'll write to Mum," he said. "Though now you mention it, there's one room I've been meaning to show you…"

Fred and George exchanged a quick glance with interest and waited for Charlie to continue.

Charlie raised his voice. "Hey, guys, I'm just going to go and get some food for us all, all right?"

A cheer went up from the Gryffindors, and the crowd parted to let Charlie out. He turned around quickly and gestured for the twins to follow him, then made his way across the common room and climbed out of the portrait hole, with Fred and George close behind.

"I am about to show you a place that could become very handy for you," he said grandly, once the portrait hole had closed behind him. "Bill showed it to me when I was in my third year, and I've been using it ever since."

"What is it?" Fred and George said simultaneously, their eyes widening in excitement.

"You'll have to wait and see," said Charlie, grinning.

He led them through a maze of corridors and staircases, past what seemed like endless portraits, doors and tapestries, until they reached… the end of a corridor. Charlie stopped, smiling widely. George shot a quick look at Fred, raising his eyebrows as if to say, _Well, this is it. Charlie's finally lost it._

"You do realise you've brought us to a dead end, right, Charlie?" said Fred, frowning at his older brother.

"Yes, but what can you see at the dead end?" Charlie said.

"What is this, another lesson?" grumbled George, but he turned to examine the wall.

There was nothing there except yet another painting, this time of a bowl of fruit. He looked over at Fred, just to check that there wasn't some kind of amazing magical porthole, invisible only to his eyes. Fred just shrugged – well, that ruled out the possibility that only George was missing something – and the two of them began to feel around the edge of the painting, trying to prise the corners away from the wall. Still nothing. George could only feel the wall and the edges of the frame beneath his fingers.

He turned back to Charlie. "Fruit. How very exciting," he said, in a sarcastic tone almost worthy of Snape.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Fred asked. "Because we should warn you, we're masters of jokes, and I have to say, this isn't a very good one."

"Just you wait," said Charlie, smirking.

He pushed between the twins and reached out to the painting. George stretched his neck out to watch what Charlie was doing, and was astonished to see him tickling the pear. George gave Fred another meaningful glance. _Right, it's official. We'll send a letter to Mum telling her that her son's lost his last dregs of sanity once we get out of here. _

However, suddenly George was given an even greater surprise, for the pear let out a little giggle, and a hidden door swung open to let them in.

"Charlie's not insane!" said Fred and George in unison, shocked.

"All my mental functions are still intact," chuckled Charlie. "Come on, follow me."

Once they'd all trooped through the door, it sealed behind them. Fred spun around, looking worried, but Charlie just laughed and reassured him that they'd still be able to get out when they wanted to. Sure enough, a small handle was visible on this side of the door.

Once Fred and George had established that they weren't trapped in this room for the rest of their lives, they could turn around and see where they were standing. Within seconds, they had worked out where they were.

"This must be the Hogwarts kitchen," whispered Fred, his mouth falling open in awe.

"That's right," said Charlie. "It's brilliant, isn't it?"

It was. There were probably hundreds of house elves milling around the kitchen, carrying plates, cutlery, stacks of every type of food imaginable and full jugs of pumpkin juice. By the looks of it, they were getting ready for dinner, working out what they'd need and what they could save for another time. George watched as one elf picked up a bag of mint humbugs, scrutinised it carefully and then threw it back into a cupboard, before clicking his fingers and vanishing with a pop. George almost said, "This is better than Honeydukes," but he thought better of it just in time, and kept his mouth shut.

Suddenly, he felt a small tug on the hem of his robes, bringing him out of the daze he'd gone into at the sight of the kitchens. He looked down and jumped violently, as he saw what looked like a small army of house elves, which seemed to have accumulated around their feet. They were all looking up at Charlie, Fred and George, and were and smiling from ear to ear. The elf who had attracted George's attention had an old sack wrapped around her middle for a dress, with holes in the top corners for her arms. She was beaming widely, and her ears drooped down the sides of her face.

"Flick is very happy that you are here!" she squeaked. "What would sirs be wanting?"

"Thanks, Flick," said Charlie, who was obviously very used to the house elves. "Could we have some food please, and maybe some pumpkin juice?"

"Of course, sirs, it would be our honour," said Flick, sinking into a curtsey.

The house elves scattered, running around the kitchen to find food, and within minutes they were pressing stacks of chocolate cake and iced buns, and even an entire roast chicken, into the Weasleys' arms. Flick balanced a bunch of grapes on top of an already wobbling pile of food that Charlie was holding, and stepped back.

"Would sirs like anything else?" she said.

"No, this is great! Thank you very much," said Charlie.

Luckily, he had thought to bring a bag, so he, Fred and George crammed as much as they could into it and their pockets, and then left, their robes bulging with everything they'd been given by the house elves.

"Cheerful, aren't they?" commented Fred, as they set off back towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Yep! They're always happy to give you food, or whatever you want, really," said Charlie.

They turned a corner, and all at once came face to face with the bright yellow eyes of Mrs Norris. She arched her back at them and let out a hiss, and then she streaked away down the corridor, probably going to find Filch.

Charlie swore. "Run for it!" he yelled.

Fred and George didn't need telling twice. For the second time that day, they went sprinting off away from the scene of their crime.

"The thing is," panted Charlie. "The house elves will give you food, no problem, but it's not the _best_ idea in the world to let a teacher find you."

"We'd actually already worked that one out for ourselves," said Fred.

Luckily, they arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait without being apprehended, and gave the password. The portrait hole swung open, and Charlie shoved his bag of food through the opening, just as a wheezing Filch stepped out behind him.

"Damn," muttered Charlie, too quietly for anyone but Fred and George to hear him.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" said Filch, leering. He reached down to scratch Mrs Norris behind the ears. She purred loudly, rubbing her head against his hand, and he whispered, "Well done, my sweet."

George felt faintly like vomiting, watching them. "We haven't done anything wrong," he said.

"That's right," Fred chimed in. "I didn't know there was a rule forbidding us from climbing through our own portrait hole."

Filch turned a nasty shade of purplish-red. "I know what you've been doing," he hissed.

"How? The cat told you?"

"I will get you somehow, you mark my words. I've already got a form labelled with your names," said Filch. "It says, 'Suggested sentence: Expulsion' on it."

"Oh, I'm terrified, aren't you, George?" said Fred, widening his eyes theatrically.

"Absolutely petrified," agreed George. "That's our pranking days over, brother of mine..."

Filch snarled at them and shot one last glare in their direction, and then grudgingly turned away, bringing Mrs Norris with him. There really was very little he could have done – even if he'd proved that they had food in their pockets, they was no rule against it, as long as Fred, George and Charlie could claim they hadn't been in the kitchens.

"Are you going to stand there all day," the Fat Lady said in a long-suffering voice. "That's quite all right, just leave me hanging open, take your time."

"Sorry," said Charlie, and he climbed through, along with the twins.

"Blimey, that was close," said George, once the portrait hole had closed.

"Yeah, I know," said Charlie, still looking slightly red in the face from the run. "Filch really doesn't like you two, does he?"

"He took offense at the beginning of the year when we dropped a couple of dungbombs," said Fred cheerfully.

"No idea why," continued George.

"But don't worry, we'll get him soon enough," they finished together.

Charlie buried his face in his hands and groaned. "That's what I'm afraid of," came his muffled voice.

Fred and George exchanged wicked grins, and walked off to find Lee, ready to concoct a master plan worthy of an evil genius – in other words, their speciality.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's my birthday on Tuesday, so if you have a moment to spare, I'd love a review as a present, haha! :P Really though, I'm sorry I keep asking, but I always like to know what you think! Constructive criticism is most definitely welcomed – it's the only way I can improve and make this story into what you lot want it to be. And a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed already! You've encouraged and helped me a lot. :)<strong>


	15. Revenge is Sweet

**Disclaimer: Most unfortunately, I don't have the privilege of being JK Rowling or owning Harry Potter. I wish. **

**Wingsfan – At the moment it looks like there will be twenty-six chapters, but several of those will be pretty long, so it could become twenty-seven if I decide to split one in half.**

* * *

><p>Fred and George got straight to planning their revenge on Filch, undeterred by Charlie, though he tried his best to discourage them. They went up to their dormitory as soon as they could, slightly disappointed that they were missing the celebration party, but with plenty of food from their visit to the kitchens.<p>

There, Fred pulled out a quill and some parchment, and as they munched on a couple of apples, the two boys began to write a list of ideas.

_Ideas for Revenge on Filch  
><em>_1) Deliberately drip mud all over the castle.  
>2) Special firework display.<br>3) Special dungbomb display.  
>4) Convince Peeves to follow him around all day singing 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love'. (With dance routine to match?)<br>5) Kick Mrs Norris.  
>6) Set McGonagall on Mrs Norris. (How?)<br>7) Kidnap Mrs Norris.  
>8) Kill Mrs Norris.<em>

After this, the conversation degenerated into a stream of verbal abuse directed at Filch's cat, and the list was forgotten. After a little while, however, the twins regained their senses and started to plan again. The mud idea was quickly rejected as being too boring. The dungbombs had been overused, so that suggestion too was struck off the list. Neither of them had any idea how to convince Professor McGonagall to start a cat fight with Mrs Norris, and they didn't _really_ want the murder of an animal on their hands, however much they hated the cat in question. Both of those entries were crossed out.

"Fireworks could work," said Fred.

"Yeah, but nobody's interested anymore," pointed out George.

It was true. Ever since they'd given Peeves a bag of fireworks, there was almost always a lone sparkler making its way through the corridors. It drove Filch up the wall, but it wouldn't go down in Hogwarts history.

"I wouldn't mind giving Mrs Norris a good kick though," said George.

"Me neither," said Fred wistfully.

They sat in contemplation for a moment, and then George said reluctantly, "I suppose he'd just come running though, and it wouldn't even have been a decent prank."

"Shame."

That just left Mrs Norris' potential kidnapping, and torture by a poltergeist and Celestina Warbeck. Slowly, a new idea began to form.

* * *

><p>The next morning, a Sunday, Fred and George began to make preparations for their upcoming revenge on Filch. They didn't tell Lee what they were doing – they wanted it to be a surprise – so they ate an early breakfast before anyone else was up and started to get ready straight away.<p>

Their first stop was the Owlery. They took the opportunity to scribble a quick letter to Ron, Ginny and their parents, reassuring them that they hadn't lost too many house points, and then turned to business. Fred and George sat down on the floor with some parchment and began to scratch out a second letter. This one was addressed to the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. In it, they asked for some of the best cat food money could buy, and Spellotaped on a couple of Galleons. This, they claimed, was for a birthday treat for their pretend cat.

"We want something so good that even McGonagall wouldn't be able to resist it," said Fred, his eyes lighting up impishly, as they rolled up their letter and attached it to the leg of a handsome barn owl.

The owl hooted at the twins and then launched itself out of the window, flapping off determinedly in what must have been the direction of Diagon Alley. They watched it disappear from view, and then set off to put the next part of their plan into action.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," said Fred, tapping the Marauder's Map, which he had just taken out of his bag, with his wand.

He and George studied the map for a moment, and then, "There he is," said George.

The dot labelled 'Peeves' was streaking down a corridor on the Fourth Floor, no doubt off to perform some kind of mischief. Fred and George set off in hot pursuit, and soon they managed to catch up with the poltergeist.

"Hi, Peeves," said George.

In the background, Fred discreetly tapped the map again and whispered, "Mischief managed," then stowed it away in his robes.

Peeves meanwhile was raising his eyebrows at George. "What do the Firsties want?" he said in a sing-song voice.

"Well you see…" began Fred. Then he paused, and said, "Actually, forget it. We can't trust _anyone_."

Peeves swooped in closer, looking very interested despite himself. Fred gave George a tiny wink; their plan was working. Continuing to play along, George took his twin to the side, pretending he hadn't noticed Peeves blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I think we can tell him," said George quietly. "He's a trickster, like us."

"Are you sure?" Fred asked him, trying to sound worried. "We can't risk anyone finding out…"

"I'm telling you, if there's one person in this school who can pull off a decent prank, it's Peeves."

"Well, all right then," said Fred slowly.

The twins turned back to Peeves, who turned his back very suddenly, obviously trying to look like he hadn't been listening in. George coughed, and Peeves gave an exaggerated jump, turning to look at them. He was beaming very widely – hopefully he would be flattered enough to help them.

"What did you want?" he said, sounding more polite than Fred and George had ever heard him.

"The thing is, Mr Peeves, we're planning this prank on Filch," said George, in a low and confidential voice.

Peeves rubbed his hands together in glee.

"And we were really hoping that you, as a kind of master of pranks, could help us with a couple of minor details," continued Fred.

"Of course, we'll totally understand if you don't think we're worth your while," George said quickly, starting to turn away.

"No, go on," said Peeves quickly, floating in front of them. "What do you want me to do?"

George smiled. "We just need a distraction while we carry out the main part."

"We had something in mind, actually..." said Fred.

They quickly explained exactly what it was that they wanted him to do. After they finished, Peeves bobbed up and down in front of them for a minute, looking thoughtful.

"I'll do it," he said, and with that, he whizzed away down the corridor, cackling loudly.

"I've never seen him that serious!" said George, astonished, once Peeves was out of earshot. "You know, I think he's actually starting to like us a bit…"

"Flattery works wonders," grinned Fred.

* * *

><p>The cat food arrived the next Wednesday at breakfast. A large tawny owl swooped down in front of Fred and George and dropped, between their plates, a colourful box, which showed a ginger kitten staring happily at a cauldron marked 'Madame Furball's Best Cat Food'.<p>

"Not sure it's the most reassuring name," snorted George, tracing over the word 'Furball' with his finger.

"There's a letter with it," Fred told him.

He pulled a piece of parchment off the box and scanned it quickly. It was from the witch who owned the Magical Menagerie, and it informed him that the cat food was the best they had. Apparently, it was infused with a Catnip Potion, and so was specifically designed to be attractive to cats.

As soon as breakfast was over, they ran off to look for Peeves. They found him hiding behind a suit of armour, holding a large bucket of melted toffee he'd stolen from the kitchens and waiting for the next unfortunate soul to pass by his bit of corridor.

"Just wanted to tell you, we're ready whenever you are, Peeves," called Fred from a safe distance.

Peeves nodded. For a moment, he looked like he was suffering some kind of inner turmoil, but then he raised a hand and saluted Fred and George. Fred grinned at his twin, seeing his own delight reflected back in his brother's face. Peeves was definitely a useful ally to have if you were planning on causing as much mayhem as possible.

"Fred, George, there you are!" they heard a voice say suddenly, from the other end of the corridor.

It was Percy. He was striding towards them, holding a large pile of books under one arm. He'd just opened his mouth to carry on speaking, when Peeves dumped the bucket of toffee over his head and scarpered, making rude noises as he went.

Percy wrenched the bucket from his head, looking furious. He began to shout threats after Peeves, but the poltergeist was already gone.

"All right, Perce?" said Fred, masking his snigger with a cough.

Percy put a hand to his hair. It was already becoming matted with hardening toffee, the ginger strands sticking fast together. Even his glasses had been splattered.

"That little… I'll get him… He'll see… Challenging a future Prefect… The nerve!" spluttered Percy, still trying to tug toffee out of his hair. "I only wanted to give you this letter from Mum and Dad anyway."

Percy thrust a letter at the twins and then stalked off to clean his hair, looking very angry indeed.

George opened the letter, still giggling at Percy's misfortune. "Mum says she's just got the dates for the Easter holidays. Apparently we'll be home for our birthday, if we don't stay at Hogwarts," he told Fred.

"Percy got plastered with toffee just for that?" laughed Fred, his eyes widening with barely suppressed glee. "That's brilliant!"

With that, they walked off to their first lesson, their day made that bit brighter by Peeves and Percy.

* * *

><p>It was the evening when Peeves decided to start off Fred and George's prank on Filch. Fred and George were walking through the Entrance Hall on their way to dinner, when they began to hear applause and shouting in the distance. They hurried forwards, and quickly came upon a large crowd of students. Pushing their way between a couple of Ravenclaw Third Years, they found Filch and Peeves in the very centre of the group.<p>

"I'll boil you up some hot, strong love," screeched Peeves directly into Filch's ear, "To keep you warm tonight!"

Filch groaned, clapping his hands over his ears, and Peeves, humming an instrumental section, flung himself into a wild dance, which seemed to be a cross between the cancan and the Hokey Pokey. The students gathered around were cheering and stamping their feet, delighted to see Filch being put through the torture of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' sung by his mortal enemy.

"I'll have you out for this, Peeves," cried Filch, beginning to cower against a tapestry. "And the lot of you too!" He beckoned at the surrounding students, none of whom seemed particularly bothered by his threat.

"Operation Norris is a go," whispered Fred, turning to grin at George.

They slipped back out and dashed up to Gryffindor Tower, all thoughts of food forgotten. There, they collected the box of cat food and the Marauder's Map, which told them that Mrs Norris was currently on the same corridor as the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Perfect," said George.

He shook a generous handful of cat food pellets out of the box and, clutching them tightly, made his way out of the common room, with Fred close behind, holding the rest of the box. Sure enough, there was Mrs Norris at the end of the corridor, narrowing her eyes warily in the direction of the twins.

George got as close as he felt safe to Mrs Norris, and slowly began to sprinkle pellets in a trail leading up to the portrait hole.

"Here, puss," called Fred.

Mrs Norris looked torn. She obviously didn't trust Fred and George, and kept her back arched up while she was looking at them, but she definitely wanted the cat pellets. She put her nose to the floor carefully, and gave the first pellet a sniff. Her yellow eyes widened, and she quickly gobbled it down. Her self restraint, which had been remarkable for a cat in the first place, broke, and she happily followed the trail along the ground. Apparently, Mrs Norris wasn't quite intelligent enough to stop before she reached the portrait hole, because before she could do anything about it, George had scooped her up and dumped her into the Gryffindor common room. He and Fred climbed in as fast as they could, ignoring the sounds behind them of the Fat Lady muttering irritably about animal cruelty.

Luckily for them, there was nobody else in the common room at that particular moment. The other Gryffindors were either in dinner or watching Peeves sing love songs to Filch. This was particularly fortunate for Fred and George, because it looked like it was going to take quite a while to convince Mrs Norris to come up to their dormitory.

"Good kitty," said George unsurely.

"We're not going to hurt you," Fred added.

Mrs Norris didn't appear to be won over. Her tail had fluffed up to about twice its normal size, and she unsheathed her claws, spitting at the twins.

"Do you think we should just treat her like a gnome?" Fred said.

"What, you mean pick her up by the paw and swing her upstairs?" sniggered George. "I'd like to see you try!"

Fred scowled at his brother and began to edge towards the hissing cat in front of them.

"I didn't mean it!" George called after him, sounding a little bit nervous.

Fred ignored him, and bent down in front of Mrs Norris. Before he could even reach out, however, she had lashed out a paw to scratch him.

"Ouch!" Fred leapt back, sucking his finger. "Bloody git."

"Told you," George couldn't resist smirking. "I'll get the cat food."

Eventually, they managed to tempt Mrs Norris into their dormitory. As soon as she was in the room, they shut the door firmly, waiting outside themselves until they thought it would be safe to go in. Fred opened the door tentatively and peeked through the crack. Directly below him was Mrs Norris, glaring up at them with her bulbous amber eyes and hissing at them half-heartedly.

Fred and George crept in, stepping over her carefully. They sat down next to each other on a bed and eyed Mrs Norris, waiting to see if she was going to attack them suddenly. However, she just sat stiffly with her back straight against the door, letting out a low, constant growl.

"Right, colour-changing spells, colour-changing spells…" said Fred slowly, pulling out his copy of _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_ and leafing through it.

"I'll get the glitter and stuff," said George, kneeling down beside the bed to look through his trunk.

"OK."

After a couple of minutes, George resurfaced, holding the same container of glitter that the twins had used at Christmas to decorate their gnome angel. He was also clutching a small bottle of dark blue butterfly wings, which were used in some potions.

"Have you worked out the charm?" he asked.

"No luck," said Fred, who was beginning to get frustrated. He pulled out his wand anyway and pointed it at Mrs Norris. "Sunshine, daisies, butter… umm… mellow… Turn this stupid fat cat yellow!"

Surprisingly enough, nothing happened. George began to applaud very slowly and sarcastically, and Fred smiled embarrassedly, lowering his wand again. They were brought back to the task at hand when Mrs Norris gave another hiss, looking very angry indeed.

"Give it here, I'll have a look," said George quickly.

Fred passed him the book, and George flipped to the index.

"Oh yeah, that could work!" said Fred.

"What a genius you are," grinned George. He moved his finger down the page until he found the right page number, and then turned to the spell. "Here it is."

"Petrificus Totalus," said Fred, pointing his wand at Mrs Norris again.

She fell to the ground, completely motionless but still giving the twins as dirty a look as was physically possible on a cat's face. They started to move quickly, unsure as to how long the spell would hold when used on a cat. They'd been reluctant to use it in the first place, but it seemed to be the only way that they could get near enough to Mrs Norris to… decorate her.

Fred got moving quickly, rubbing handfuls of glitter into Mrs Norris' fur.

"Revenge is sweet... I've wanted to do something like this for so long," he said happily, ignoring Mrs Norris' angry gaze boring into his side.

He picked up the bottle of butterfly wings, shook a few into his hand, and carefully arranged them up each side of Mrs Norris' body, licking his fingers to stick them down loosely.

George, meanwhile, was working on the colour-changing charm. He chewed his lip, focussing very hard, and raised his wand.

"Muta Rosea," he muttered, waving his wand, with his face screwed up in concentration.

As Fred watched, a few pink sparks shot from George's wand and alighted on Mrs Norris' flank. There, they seemed to melt into her fur and spread over her body, until her coat was visibly tinged pink. George, looking rather pleased with himself, repeated the spell a few times, until the two of them were satisfied that Mrs Norris was fully pink and sparkly, with at least seven pairs of delicate wings sprouting from her back.

The twins picked her up and raced out of the common room and down the corridor. A little way along, they came to a high pillar with a flat surface at the top. They put Mrs Norris down on the floor, and Fred pulled out his wand again.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

With a swish and a flick, Mrs Norris was rising into the air, her eyes bulging out of their sockets alarmingly, but her body still frozen in position. In a couple of minutes, she was perched on top of the pillar, looking quite like a fluffy, pink gargoyle. They were just in time – the Petrificus Totalus spell on the cat was released, and she hissed down at them furiously, before beginning to claw off the wings attached to her side.

"All that hard work wasted," said Fred, sounding disappointed.

Mrs Norris continued to prowl around the top of the pillar. There were now only a couple of pairs of wings left, in positions that she couldn't reach, but the glitter and new colour had remained.

"Come on, let's get out of here," whispered George.

"Oh, I wish I could see Filch's face when he sees her..." said Fred wistfully.

Suddenly, however, Fred and George heard a faint sound of singing, and before they had time to react, Filch had sprung around the corner of the corridor, with Peeves and several students hot on his tail.

"What are you doing?" he snapped at Fred and George.

"We-"

"Errr-"

"Nothing-"

"We were just-"

They began to edge away from the caretaker, but it was too late. His eyes had already fallen on his cat, who was still standing on the pillar, trying to find a safe way down. Filch's jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times, looking a bit like a goldfish out of water, and his face turned an unattractive shade of reddish purple.

"Well, at least we saw his face," Fred said very quietly to George, trying to suppress the twinges of dread in his stomach.

"Big comfort," muttered George out of the corner of his mouth.

"What have you done to my cat?" Filch rasped, staring up at Mrs Norris and then back at the twins.

Fred and George might have been able to talk their way out of the situation, but for a couple of students, who began to snigger, and Peeves, who let out a loud shriek of laughter and spiralled off down the corridor. This was the last straw for Filch. He held out his arms for Mrs Norris, who jumped into them gratefully, purring loudly. Then he turned to face Fred and George. His hands around Mrs Norris were shaking in anger and his lips were twisting into an unpleasant leer.

"My office. Now," he said, and his mouth curved upwards into an unnervingly sinister smile.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It really made my week a lot better! I'm delighted with the response – I always worry a bit that there's something that people don't like and they're just too polite to say so, so reviews always reassurehelp me. :P I'll update as soon as I can, but my GCSEs started today, so it might be a bit slow for a while.**


	16. The Forbidden Forest

**Disclaimer: I don't intend any copyright infringement. I am fully aware that I am not JK Rowling, and as such, I do not own her work.**

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><p>Filch shut his office door with a snap, then he spun around to look down at Fred and George. Mrs Norris was still in his arms, and at the moment, both the caretaker and the cat appeared to be glaring at the ginger twins in front of them, with an inexpressible loathing in their eyes that would suitable for, say, observing the devil incarnate. George shifted uncomfortably under their joint gaze and stepped a little closer to Fred. Filch continued to glower at the two them silently for a minute, but then he abruptly turned away and opened the door again.<p>

"Stay right there until I'm back," he growled, and he stomped from the room, clutching his cat tightly around the middle.

George shot a quick glance in Fred's direction, who looked back at him with slightly panicked eyes. They both knew they couldn't run. Filch would only come and find them and then they'd be in even bigger trouble. They would just have to stick it out and hope for the best. Which, judging by Filch's expression, was likely to be something along the lines of being hung from the Astronomy Tower by their ankles.

"Mum's going to murder us," George mumbled.

"No different to normal then," said Fred, trying to make light of the situation.

George gave a faint laugh.

"I suppose they might not tell her," he said, attempting to convince himself as much as Fred.

"Even if they do, if was totally worth it!"

Fred and George allowed themselves a moment to grin at the image of Mrs Norris dressed rather like a fairy, and then fell back into silence, waiting for Filch to return with whatever punishment he was planning on bestowing on them. George crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping it wouldn't be the thumbscrews that Filch was always threatening to use.

Filch took a while to arrive, and when he did finally get back to his office, he was looking worryingly gleeful. The cause for this became apparent when he was followed into the room by a tight-lipped McGonagall, who glared down at Fred and George with a terrifying ferocity.

"Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore was unavailable," said Filch, "but I'm sure Professor McGonagall will work out a suitable punishment for you."

He hobbled across the room to the filing cabinets against the wall. After rummaging through them for a second, he withdrew a creased form, which he handed to McGonagall, smiling nastily. George peered at the form, and noticed with a sinking of his heart that it did indeed have his and Fred's names scrawled at the top, just above a suggested sentence of 'Expulsion'. He held his breath, waiting for McGonagall's reaction.

McGonagall glanced down at the form, her lips pursing, if possible, even more tightly.

_Well, this is it_, thought George miserably, sharing a despairing glance with Fred. _Hogwarts was nice while it lasted._

But then, with a flick of her wand, McGonagall vanished the form into thin air. Filch let out a low cry of outrage, and stared at the Transfiguration teacher, clearly affronted.

"Really, Argus, I don't think expulsion is quite necessary in this case," she said, sounding exasperated.

"But my cat, look at her!" he said furiously. "Look what they did to Mrs Norris. I want to see some punishment!"

"Oh, there will be punishment…"

McGonagall's voice was icy as she fixed her glare on Fred and George in turn, each of whom were forced to look down at their shoes after a couple of seconds of eye contact. George began to think he would have preferred a confrontation with Dumbledore.

Filch rubbed his hands together, looking happier. "Excellent," he leered.

"Twenty five points will be deducted from Gryffindor for each of you, and you will both serve a detention," said McGonagall, "I believe Madame Pomfrey needs some herbs gathered from the Forbidden Forest, and I'm sure Hagrid could use your help. I'm afraid I am also going to have to write a letter home to your parents."

George gloomily looked over at Fred. Deduction of points and a detention, he could live with, but their mother's wrath would be a lot harder to survive. Then again, nobody could deny that they'd had plenty of practice at enduring her yelling. And anyway, at least they weren't being chucked out. It could be worse.

"I was thinking perhaps also a suspension at the very least could teach them some respect," Filch piped up helpfully.

"Not today. No harm has been done," McGonagall said.

"No harm? But look at Mrs Norris!"

With a weary sigh, McGonagall waved her wand at Filch's cat. Instantly, Mrs Norris was completely wingless, glitterless and back to her usual colour. She closed her amber eyes for a moment and gave a quiet purr, rubbing her head against Filch's chest.

"Misters Weasley, I must warn you now that if you are caught breaking any more rules, the consequences will be much more severe," McGonagall said seriously, turning back to Fred and George. "I will contact you soon with details of your detention."

At that, she whisked from the room, leaving only Filch, Fred and George. Filch seemed to be spluttering angrily at the fact that he still hadn't succeeded in getting the twins safely out of the school and away from him and his cat. Fred and George couldn't resist a slight smirk as they watched him, but they had enough sense to keep their mouths shut.

"Out," Filch said finally, pointing a gnarled finger at the door.

Fred and George left without hesitation and went straight to the Great Hall, where the last few students were finishing their dinner. They put their trays down at the end of the Gryffindor table, where Lee was still sitting.

"What kept you?" he said by way of a greeting.

They quickly explained the story of Mrs Norris and their detention. By the end, Lee was laughing so hard that he'd fallen off his seat and was now sitting happily enough on the floor.

"You- you actually turned her pink? And McGonagall's given you another detention?" he choked, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Yep."

"Oh, Merlin, imagine how she'd look if you fairy-fied her!"

Lee was off again, and this time Fred and George couldn't help but join in. The picture of a pink and sparkly, winged McGonagall was too much to resist.

* * *

><p>The detention was set for the next Friday evening. After dinner, Fred and George made their way down to the Entrance Hall, where Hagrid and Fang were waiting for them. They couldn't bring themselves to feel too upset about it. They'd already braved a Howler from their mother ("HARMING AN INNOCENT ANIMAL! I WOULDN'T HAVE BELIEVED IT OF YOU!") and had been eventually forgiven by the other Gryffindors for the fifty points they'd lost. They definitely felt like they were over the worst of it, and Hagrid was friendly enough, so the detention shouldn't be <em>too<em> awful. Anyway, it was an excuse to finally get into the Forbidden Forest!

With the sun's light beginning to fade behind them, Fred and George set off across the grounds, chatting cheerfully to Hagrid on the way about a baby hippogriff that had recently been born as Fang yapped and leapt around their feet. When they reached the edge of the Forest, they were met by Madame Pomfrey.

"Ah, you're here," she said briskly.

"What is it yeh need?" Hagrid asked her.

"I'm running low on Knotgrass; it's very useful for Pepperup Potions," she replied. "Professor McGonagall said you could collect a bit from the Forest for me, if that's possible."

"O' course."

"You know what it looks like, I trust?"

Fred and George shuffled uncomfortably. Suffice to say, they hadn't been paying as much attention in Herbology as they probably should have been. Noticing this, Madame Pomfrey sighed and raised her wand. She conjured up a few wisps of smoke, which shaped themselves into a hovering image of some Knotgrass.

"Oh, so just like any other grass, really," said Fred, scrutinising the Knotgrass.

"Other grass does not help cure colds!" snapped Madame Pomfrey.

"Yeah, come on Fred," George teased, elbowing him in the ribs. "Honestly."

"I really must get back to the Hospital Wing," said Madame Pomfrey, as the picture disappeared with a pop. "Please bring it up to me when you're done."

She turned and marched away. Hagrid led the twins between the first few trees, and then stopped, somehow producing three large wicker baskets from one of his coat pockets. George stared at the pocket in awe; he could never have guessed that it was that roomy. Hagrid handed a basket each to Fred and George.

"We'll get the most covered if we split up," he said. "Knotgrass doesn' grow deep in, so make sure yeh don't go too far."

"OK," agreed Fred brightly.

George caught his twin's eye, grinning. More of a chance to explore if they weren't burdened by adult supervision.

"Yeh can take Fang. Jus' send up some red sparks if yer in trouble, an' I'll come straight there."

"Will do."

At that, they set off into the Forest. Fred and George swerved off to the left with Fang trotting in front of them, and Hagrid went to the right. Whenever they reached a clump of Knotgrass, the twins would grab a couple of handfuls, stuff it into their baskets and move on.

"I feel like a five year old girl," Fred confessed after a while.

"I know what you mean," grinned George. "Skipping through the woods with baskets full of flowers. Or grass."

"Come on, let's just resist the temptation to burst into a song about the wonders of nature and bloody get this done!"

"Agreed."

After a short walk, they came to a large patch of the long grass, which easily had enough to fill their baskets. They began to pull it out by the roots, ignoring the slightly uncomfortable sticky feeling it had, and soon they'd collected a decent amount.

"Excellent," said Fred, wiping his hands on his robes. "How long d'you reckon we have until they start wondering where we've got to?"

"Dunno, maybe an hour or so?"

"Good enough. Heel, Fang."

They began to wander deeper into the Forest, despite a few whimpers from Fang, who was now trailing behind them. George kept a close eye out for anything interesting – centaurs, Hippogriffs, werewolves, vampires… However, they saw nothing. On a few occasions, George could have sworn he heard a rustling in the trees or bushes, but on closer inspection, there was nothing to be seen. Either it was just the wind, or whatever had made the noise was hiding from them.

In fact, George was just beginning to get bored with the lack of activity and was becoming decidedly tempted by the idea of going back to the Gryffindor common room and its warm fireplace, when he and Fred stepped between a couple of trees and found themselves suddenly in a rather peculiar clearing. It was a square shape, with an old, twisted tree in each corner and some kind of stone platform in the centre.

"This doesn't quite look natural," Fred said quietly, raising an eyebrow.

"No…"

Simultaneously, Fred and George stepped out from their position at the edge of the clearing and made their way over to the nearest tree.

"Look!" cried Fred suddenly.

He was gesturing at a point near to the top of the trunk, where the branches started to sprout outwards. George stared up and faintly made out the image of an eagle etched into the bark.

Fred shot him a glance and voiced the what George himself was thinking. "Ravenclaw?"

"I don't know… Maybe… It might just be graffiti though."

As he spoke, he reached his hand up to feel around the drawing of the eagle. The wood of the tree where it had been carved was smooth, and no dust or dirt came off onto George's fingers. If this was simple graffiti, it had been done not only very artistically but also very recently. It didn't really seem like the work of a student who'd just ventured into the Forest to explore.

"Hey, George, come over here."

While George had been examining the eagle, Fred had walked off around the edge of the clearing to look at the other trees. It didn't take George long to work out what Fred had spotted; on each of the four trees was a different animal, in exactly the same place as the eagle. There was a badger, a lion and a serpent. OK, perhaps the Ravenclaw guess had been right after all...

As Fred and George were staring up at the picture of the lion, a bark came from the middle of the clearing. Fang was standing on the platform, pawing at it nervously. Wordlessly, Fred and George crossed over to it. It was set firmly into the ground, and a thin layer of moss seemed to have grown over its surface. Fred and George knelt down and began to pull away the moss until just the stone was visible. When they were done, George reached out a hand and ran his fingers over it. Disappointingly, there didn't seem to be anything of interest there.

"Well that's a bit of an anti-climax," he said, turning to Fred with a slight smile curving his lips.

As he said this, George put his hand down on the platform, and suddenly, with a shock, he felt something click underneath his palm. A grinding noise came from the stone, and the platform began to lower itself into the ground. George leapt off it and grabbed Fred's arm in surprise. Even Fang backtracked from where he'd been standing sniffing around on the ground and let out a whine.

For a couple of seconds, Fred and George crouched frozen on the spot while the platform descended, and then with a clunking noise it stopped moving. Fred and George peered down into the hole that had been left, and were astonished to see-

"Is that a doorknob?" said Fred.

"Umm… I think so?"

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

Beneath the new doorknob, there was a keyhole. But no key.

"You don't happen to have a handy key lying around, do you, George?" asked Fred nonchalantly.

"Not that I know of." George patted his pockets, just to be sure that nothing had materialised there. It hadn't.

"Ah well."

Fred grabbed the doorknob anyway and gave it a good, hard twist. The stone still remained solid and closed, but there was a sudden cracking noise behind them. Fred and George swung around to see the picture of the snake on the tree directly behind them split open, leaving a gaping hole in the trunk of the tree. The twins rushed over to it, and George stuck his hand inside the cavity to feel around the edges. Almost straight away, he felt his fingers connect with parchment, and he drew out a small scroll.

"What does it say?" Fred asked immediately.

George unrolled it and read out, "Please place your item here."

For a second, he looked at Fred, confused. And then understanding seemed to hit both of them at the same time.

"We've found it!" yelled Fred with a look of frenzy dancing in his eyes.

"This is the challenge!" shouted George at the same time, grinning manically. "Just one item to go, mate, and then we're ready!"

But their yells seemed to have attracted the attention of something in the Forest. As their voices died away, Fred and George could hear the unmistakeable sound of many feet scuttling through dry leaves. As one, they turned, and were greeted by a horrifying sight; face to face with them was the most gigantic spider they'd ever seen. Its humungous body was covered in thick, black hair, and it was moving towards them on flexible legs, which stretched out around its body by about twelve feet. The spider's eight eyes were milky white and unseeing, but each one of them was turned towards Fred and George. Its pincers clicked menacingly as it advanced on them.

The twins stood frozen to the spot. George's brain was working fast as he felt adrenalin pumping through his veins. What exactly was the correct procedure in a situation like this? Play dead? Run? Attack? Make it clear that he was a human boy as opposed to a large, tasty fly?

As if through a daze, he heard Fred's voice from a point at his side. "My God. Ron's teddy bear's grown!"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: This one is a (relatively) short chapter, because this seemed like a good point to end it before it went the other way and got very long! I'll try to get the next one up quickly. By the way, there is a very interesting new review button at the bottom of the page. If you'd like to test it out, now's your chance! :P<strong>


	17. The Acromantulas

**Disclaimer: I don't think any of you think I own this. Particularly after the last sixteen reminders. I mean, come on, none of you are anything **_**like**_** that idiotic****!**

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><p>George looked at Fred incredulously. "Ron's teddy bear? Did you hit your head or somethi- Oh." He glanced back at the spider and let out a slightly nervous laugh as an image came into his mind of a younger Ron shrieking and dropping his suddenly hairy and eight-legged teddy. "You're right, it has grown rather a lot."<p>

"And moved house. I could have sworn Ron and his teddy lived in the Burrow…"

The spider took another step towards them, all eight of its eyes blinking slowly. Fred and George both jumped back from it, practically tripping over each other's feet as they scrambled away.

The spider opened its mouth. "What is this teddy bear you speak of?" it said in a gravelly voice. "I am Aragog, king of the acromantulas. I am not a human toy."

"Mr Fluff! You've learned to talk!" gasped Fred, starting to take a step forwards.

"All right, mate, there's a time and a place…" George swung out an arm to stop his brother and rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Fred mumbled back. "Couldn't resist."

"Idiot."

Aragog crouched down, his massive body seeming to ripple as he did so. "Why are you here, humans? Why have you disturbed our nesting site?"

"We were on detention and we kind of got lost, and now-" Fred began to explain.

George cut him off. "Nesting site? What do you mean?"

"This place has long been deserted. I was attracted to the quiet when Hagrid first brought me to the Forest."

"Hagrid knows this thing?" George whispered to Fred out of the corner of his mouth. "I knew he had a bit of an affinity for monsters, but isn't this going a bit far?"

"He's mental," Fred stated plainly. "Utterly cracked."

"Hagrid gave me a home when no others would have," said Aragog. "He is my greatest friend. But I grow weary of this conversation." His pincers were clicking agitatedly, and he began to shift restlessly between each of his eight furry legs. "My family will dine now."

George looked uncomfortably at his twin. What did Aragog mean, dine? A bizarre picture popped into his head of another spider wearing an apron and several little spiders sitting at a table holding knives and forks. He shook the image out of his mind; now probably wasn't the right moment to lose his concentration.

"Well, we'll just be off then, and leave you in peace," Fred said.

He grabbed George by the sleeve and began to back away towards the line of trees and safety.

"Off?" said Aragog. There was a distinctly mocking note to his voice. "I don't think so. It isn't often that we get the delicacy of human meat…"

"But we're students!"

"From the school!"

"They'll notice we're gone."

"And by that point," replied Aragog, "it will be too late."

"You don't want human anyway," Fred said desperately. "Wouldn't you rather some nice chicken?"

"Or snake?" offered George. "Tastes the same, apparently."

As soon as the words were out of George's mouth, Aragog shuddered. His body reared upwards, and his pincers snapped again.

"We do not speak of those creatures," he said. "Particularly the greatest ones, the name of which will never cross our mouths. They are our mortal enemies."

"We can identify with that," Fred said slowly.

George nodded fervently. "Look at the Slytherins, they're our mortal enemies, and our least favourite is You-Know-Who, and nobody says his name. Even now that he's gone."

"Then again," mused Fred, "Gryffindor's emblem isn't a spider."

Aragog's milky eyes swivelled in their sockets between Fred and George, judging their positions through sound alone. It looked as if he was trying to work out whether or not they were making fun of him. And whether or not he should just kill them on the spot. A nervous flutter ran through George's stomach and he edged a few inches further back.

"Enough," Aragog said finally. "My family is growing hungry."

His pincers clicked rapidly together. Apparently, this was some kind of call, because spiders began to pour from the bushes and trees around them, where they'd somehow been invisible before. They seemed almost to erupt up from the ground, and they began to swarm towards Fred, George, Fang and Aragog. Fred, George and Fang were being pressed tightly together, forming a small group in the centre of the clearing as spiders bore down on them from every side. Meanwhile, Aragog's mouth widened into something with as close a resemblance to a smile as is possible when you're a spider. Fred and George drew their wands, holding them up defensively, but there were so many spiders that they had no idea where to cast their spells. George began to feel slightly sick as the acromantulas drew closer, and he looked around wildly for an escape route. He found none.

"You know, George, I don't fancy being spider food," said Fred, who was actually beginning to look quite scared.

George was about to reply that if Fred was planning on coming up with a miraculous survival plan, now would be the time to do so, but he never got the chance.

He heard a yap from behind him and spun round to see Fang being pulled into the air by a long, hairy leg. The next moment, something had seized George around the ankle and he was flying up into the air, being swung around by one of Aragog's relatives. He grasped his wand tighter, thankful that he'd managed to keep hold of it.

"Petrificus Totalus," he cried.

The jet of light shot out at a random angle; George wasn't sure whether it was headed towards the spider holding him, Aragog, a random tree, or even Fred or Fang. It became apparent when the spell bounced back towards George that it had hit an acromantula. George had to swing his whole body out of the way to avoid being petrified by his own jinx, but luckily he managed it, and the spell sailed past him to hit a nearby bush instead.

Now the spider was raising George up towards its face. He found himself staring into one of its large eyes, and he had to suppress the urge to yell. He began struggling as hard as he could in the acromantula's grip, not particularly keen on the idea of being eaten.

"George!" came a voice from his left.

George looked around wildly, to see Fred, also thrashing in a spider's clutches and held high in the air. Fred's arms were pinned to his sides by one of the spider's legs, which was wrapped tightly around his middle.

"George," Fred shouted again. "Red sparks, remember!"

George cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid as to forget Hagrid's warning? Shoot up some red sparks if you get into trouble… He twisted his body in the acromantula's grasp, holding his wand outstretched, and swished it, letting a stream of red sparks fly up into the air.

Aragog seemed to know what this meant, because he let out a cry of rage and began snapping his pincers together again. The spiders started to scatter, scuttling out of the clearing again. George saw Fang and Fred dropped by their respective acromantulas somewhere on the other side of the clearing, and then the leg wrapped around George's feet loosened and he fell sprawling into a bush. He struggled up, grateful for the soft landing (even if it was a bit spiky) and watched warily as the acromantulas seemed to melt away into the greenery around them once more.

"Fred?" George called, only just realising that he was alone.

He looked around for his twin, but he couldn't see him. George scrambled to his feet and began to walk across the clearing, noticing the two upended baskets of Knotgrass, but no Fred. Suddenly, he heard a muffled whimper from his right. He turned and caught sight of a flash of ginger hair behind a bush. Without hesitation, George ran over. A white-faced Fred was curled against a tree, clutching his left arm to his chest with his eyes tight shut.

"Are you all right?" said George, sitting down next to him and looking worriedly at Fred's arm. It looked like it was broken; either that or Fred had grown an extra elbow since George had last seen him. George felt slightly queasy at the sight, but he resisted the temptation to turn away.

"Bloody spider practically threw me into the tree," Fred said with a wince, opening his eyes again.

George's insides squirmed guiltily – it had been his red sparks that did it. Then again, it was that or be eaten. He slipped an arm around Fred's shoulders, carefully avoiding knocking his injured arm, and gave him a gentle hug.

"Hagrid should get here soon, I sent up the sparks," he said.

Fred sat up straight, looking more alert. "We've got to get out of here."

"The spiders are gone…"

"No, Hagrid can't see this clearing! The teachers'll investigate it if they find out how weird it looks, and then we probably won't be able to get back in."

"Damn it, you're right."

George clenched his jaw in frustration. If Hagrid stumbled upon the clearing, all their work collecting house items would be down the drain. He leapt to his feet and reached down to help Fred up. Fred gave a grimace and staggered, but he managed to catch his balance. George again wrapped his arm around his brother, who was trembling slightly, and the two of them turned, hurrying between the trees until they decided they were a good distance from the clearing, though not too far for Hagrid to find them.

The twins came to a halt. Fred doubled over, looking very pale, and George began to twiddle his wand between his fingers, wondering if he should send up some more sparks. Suddenly, he heard a bark, and Fang came lolloping towards them with Hagrid close behind him.

"Good boy," said George, scratching Fang behind his ears.

"There you are! I was startin' to get worried" Hagrid sounded relieved. He turned to see Fred, who was still grasping tightly onto his arm. "Blimey, what happened to you?"

"Fell," muttered Fred.

"Righ'," said Hagrid doubtfully. "Well, we'd better get you to the Hospital Wing. That reminds me, did you get the Knotgrass?"

"We dropped it a while back," George explained. "I can go and get it if you want."

Hagrid looked around shiftily, and then pulled out his flowery, pink umbrella. "Don' mention this to anyone," he said. "I'm not strictly speaking supposed to do magic anymore… Still, what harm can it do? Accio Fred and George's Knotgrass."

Within a few seconds, the long, sticky strands had sailed through the air to land in Hagrid's arms, and the three of them began to make their way slowly back to the castle, with George casting a protective eye over his twin all the way there.

Madame Pomfrey noticed them arrive outside the Hospital Wing, and came to open the door for them.

"Ah, so you've brought the Knotgrass," she said, before her eyes fell on Fred. "Goodness gracious, boy, what have you done to yourself?"

"I fell," Fred repeated, shuffling uncomfortably and avoiding eye contact.

Madame Pomfrey made a 'tsk' sound, and looked calculatingly at his arm. "Nothing I can't fix easily. Go and sit on a bed and I'll be with you in a second."

With that, she took the Knotgrass from Hagrid and began bustling around in her office out of sight of the twins. She returned a minute later carrying a couple of bottles of potion. She unscrewed the lid from one and poured out a generous spoonful.

"This one is for the pain," she said, forcing it into Fred's mouth.

He made a face and swallowed. "That stuff is revolting!" he said as soon as he recovered the ability to speak, sticking his tongue out and making retching noises.

"Then be a bit more careful next time," shot back Madame Pomfrey.

She measured out another spoonful of the second potion and tipped that too down Fred's throat. Fred's cheeks now held a bit more colour, and his usual spirit seemed to have returned with force.

"Why does all medicine have to taste disgusting?" he complained.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "Just sit _still _for five minutes, can you? And then you should be able to go, as long as you don't do anything overly strenuous for a little while."

"Thank you," Fred and George said together, which earned a rare smile from Madame Pomfrey as she hurried back into her office, probably to do something with the Knotgrass.

* * *

><p>"What'd you do to yourselves now?" was Angelina's greeting as Fred and George entered the Gryffindor common room ten minutes later.<p>

"Let's just say we found out why the Forest is forbidden," said Fred with a smirk.

Madame Pomfrey had forced Fred's arm into a sling for the rest of the evening, since she'd decided that she didn't trust him to stay out of trouble after finding him and George attempting to do headstands on the bed when she returned from her office to let them go.

However, Fred didn't seem particularly bothered. In fact, he immediately took the opportunity to present a very overly dramatic account of their adventures to Angelina and Alicia. This story may have been ever so slightly exaggerated, seeing as it involved a long description of how he had narrowly escaped from the jaws of death, undertaking several daring stunts along the way, before finally being felled by a combination of six acromantulas (that bit was the closest to the truth), a Hippogriff and a colony of Flobberworms. George wasn't particularly happy with his involvement in Fred's tale, as he appeared to be playing a twisted role of damsel in distress, but he was having too much fun listening to bother making a fuss.

"So the part about the Flobberworms," said Alicia, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Yes."

"You say they were trying to bite you?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "You do realise Flobberworms don't have teeth, right?"

"Ah." Fred looked momentarily flummoxed, then his face cleared. "That was how we escaped, you see! The Flobberworms were _trying_ to bite us… Erm…"

"Labouring under the delusion that they had teeth," George supplied, warming to the story now that his part in it wasn't reminiscent of a princess from a Muggle fairy tale.

"Yeah, that's right! So they just ended up sucking us really, and we escaped. Bravely."

Angelina began to clap, very slowly and sarcastically. "Wow. The two of you are just so bold and heroic," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"It was nothing really," Fred told her modestly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that!" snorted Alicia, unable to keep herself from collapsing into laughter. It was probably the image of Fred and George battling a Flobberworm that did it.

Fred managed to keep a straight face long enough to say, with an air of wounded dignity, "Here I am, injured and all, and you're laughing at my pain…" He let out an exaggerated sniff. "And you call yourselves my friends."

His lips trembled for a second and then, unable to keep his act together any longer, he too burst out laughing, along with George and Angelina.

Charlie looked over at them from where he'd been sitting nearby. "I don't know what's so funny… I've been bitten by Flobberworms, and their gums are bloody painful!"

George grinned and gestured towards Charlie. "Ladies and gentlemen, round up, round up to see the man who wants to work with dragons but is scared of Flobberworms!"

Charlie crossed his arms and gave George a mock glare. "Oi, I never said I was scared!"

Fred and George both opened their mouths to make an enthusiastic retort, but they were cut off by Percy, who was clutching a roll of parchment and a large book, looking very irritable.

"Some of us are trying to work here, so if you wouldn't mind keeping the noise down…"

"All right, keep your hair on, Perce," said Charlie good-naturedly, standing up and stretching. He turned to the twins. "You heard him."

"But Charlie…" Fred and George groaned.

"Go and play chess or something."

"Exploding Snap?" suggested George hopefully.

"No can do."

"Gobstones?" Fred piped up.

"Percy, do you get distracted by nasty liquid being squirted in people's faces?"

"Yes, I do," growled Percy.

"In that case, no."

"Fine," grumbled Fred.

"But only 'cause you're our star Seeker," George added, before running off to fetch a set of wizards' chess.

They ended up playing doubles with Fred and George against Angelina and Alicia, and the twins succeeded in losing spectacularly every time. It wasn't that they were bad at the game, but they just couldn't concentrate. Only one thought was running through George's mind, and it wasn't about the position of his bishops.

_Just Hufflepuff left, and then we're in._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I have to say, I don't think this chapter is particularly good. But however many times I edit it, it hasn't seem to have got much better, and I don't have the time to redo it totally. If you've got anything you'd like to say - suggestions, advice and whatnot… Well, you know where the review button is! :)<strong>


	18. April the First

**Disclaimer: No, I didn't turn into JK Rowling overnight. Shame.**

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><p>Time was drawing on, and still Fred, George and Lee hadn't found a way to get hold of a Hufflepuff item. They were beginning to get frustrated by now; they knew where they had to go and were three quarters of the way to getting there, but they simply couldn't find the last object they needed. Now they were on the way to their last lesson of the term, Herbology, and assuming they didn't find something within the next few hours, they were going to have to go the whole Easter holidays before they even had another chance to start hunting for an item.<p>

Fred idly watched a bumblebee buzzing past. "Yellow and black, do you think that counts?"

Lee followed his eyes to the bee. "Maybe if it was a badger… But no."

"Wingardium Leviosa," said Fred, pointing his wand at the bee, which started buzzing harder, trying to escape Fred's spell. "OK, perhaps not."

He let it go and it whizzed off towards the greenhouses. Fred, George and Lee continued to amble along in the same direction, deep in thought.

Eventually, George broke the silence. "Up 'til now, we've just really been waiting for an opportunity to nick something to come along."

"Yes…"

"But I reckon we've waited long enough. We're just going to have to make a plan."

"But what kind of plan is it even possible to make?" Fred burst out, with a frustrated kick at the grass. "It's bloody difficult to just _plan _to find a Hufflepuff thing. We don't know where they are!"

"Yes we do," said George calmly. "The Hufflepuff common room."

Fred and Lee stared at him for a minute, and then burst out laughing.

"Good one, mate," said Fred eventually. He looked over at George, and his laughter abruptly died away. "Oh, Merlin. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"How the hell do we get into another house's common room? We can't just wander in and announce that we're long lost Hufflepuffs who just got lost on the way to the common room on the first night at Hogwarts and have been stranded in Gryffindor Tower all year."

George dug his hands into his pockets. "I haven't got a clue."

"That's useful, isn't it?"

"We'll come up with something. Eventually."

At that point, they reached the greenhouses and were forced to end their conversation to stop Professor Sprout or one of the other students from hearing them. Once they'd all arrived, Sprout bent down and heaved a large potted plant up onto the bench in front of her. It had long waving tentacle-like leaves, which each had a small mouth on the end, complete with sharp, little teeth.

"Gather round folks," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "Come on, a bit closer, it won't bite." A few of the students looked dubious at this and Sprout smiled. "Don't worry, it knows I'll put a muzzle on it if it tries anything. This is a Venomous Tentacula. Can anyone tell me what it's used for?"

A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand and said nervously, "Can't you use them to guard doors and stuff?"

"Good girl, take five points." Professor Sprout nodded approvingly. 'That's right, they can be trained to recognised particular people and therefore bite anyone else who tries to pass. Today we'll be re-potting seedlings. It's not hard; just yank it out by the roots and bury it in a new pot, like we've been practicing this term. Don't worry, they haven't developed their poison yet, so the most they can do is give you a nasty nip. So long as you keep your gloves on, you should be all right. Now get into groups of four and we'll begin. Just choose a plant and get started! "

Fred, George and Lee shuffled together and began looking around for a fourth student. Soon, a good-looking Hufflepuff boy with light brown hair stopped next to them.

"My name's Cedric," he said, flashing them a quick grin. "Can I work with you?"

Fred noticed a trio of girls behind Cedric sigh disappointedly and melt back into the greenhouse. He suppressed the urge to laugh at them or imitate them.

"Yeah, if you like," he shrugged.

"Great!"

They dug out one of the smaller and less lethal-looking Venomous Tentacula plants and set to work. Gradually, Fred and George grew more bored with the task and began flicking bits of earth at each other. Unfortunately for them, Professor Sprout noticed and deducted five points from Gryffindor. However, within minutes they had found a new game to pass the time. This one involved seeing who could get their finger furthest into one of the sharp-toothed little mouths on the plants' leaves before either losing their nerve or being bitten.

"Give it a go, Cedric!" said Fred, the current champion.

"Yes, it's fun. I swear it doesn't hurt," added George.

"Much." Fred smiled evilly.

Cedric looked suspiciously at the plant, which was baring its teeth at him. He looked down at his finger. He appeared to decide that he'd rather it stayed attached to the rest of his body, and abruptly changed the topic.

"So what are the Gryffindors doing for the end of exams after half term?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Don't you have some kind of celebration?"

"Don't think so. Do we, Lee?" asked Fred and George simultaneously, turning to their friend.

"Not that I know of…"

"We Hufflepuffs have one every year, apparently," said Cedric proudly.

"Well bully for you," muttered Fred, too quietly for Cedric to hear. He was taking a bit of a disliking to the Hufflepuff boy. Much too... well... perfect.

Cedric, oblivious to Fred's annoyance, continued. "The Prefects take us down here to the greenhouses after dinner and we have our own little picnic with Professor Sprout."

Fred personally thought it sounded absolutely ghastly and was about to say so, but as he opened his mouth he was beaten to it by George.

"So it's the whole house that does this?"

"Yeah, that's right. Even the Seventh Years come. Great, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah… But doesn't that mean your common room is empty?"

"I suppose so," said Cedric, shrugging.

George arranged his face into an indifferent sort of expression. "So how long does this go on?"

"Ummm… A couple of hours? I think so, anyway."

George shot Fred a very significant look, and Fred caught on immediately. If they could somehow sneak into the Hufflepuff common room while the house was out at this celebratory picnic thing, perhaps they'd get a chance to nick a Hufflepuff item without being seen and recognised as Gryffindors. It was the perfect opportunity; most likely, the best they were going to get. So now they had the Easter holidays and exam week to plan, and then… they would be in.

* * *

><p>The next day passed quickly, most of it spent on the Hogwarts Express with Lee, discussing how best to get into the Hufflepuff common room. Now Fred and George were back at the Burrow, and after a large dinner, courtesy of their mother, they'd rushed straight upstairs to their room to plan. Fred was currently pacing up and down the bedroom while George watched him from his position lounging back on his bed.<p>

"So the Hufflepuffs will all be out."

"Yes, Fred, we've been over this. Cedric said they _all _go."

"OK…" Fred paused for thought. "So it's definitely safe to go in?"

George laughed. "Two things. One, when have you ever cared about safety? And two, yes it's going to be bloody safe! We've discussed this many, many times."

"All right, all right," grinned Fred, holding his hands up in surrender. "I just don't want to get detention right when we have to be in the Forest."

"Fair enough."

Fred stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of his bed, still deep in thought.

"Hang on…" he said.

"What is it now?" sighed George.

"If the Hufflepuffs are all out, how are we going to get in?"

"What _are _you talking about?"

"We can't get in without a Hufflepuff."

George's face fell and he too sat up. He rested his chin in his palm, his eyebrows creasing as he considered the problem. After about a minute, his face cleared and he relaxed back onto his bed.

"Easy. They'll have a password like us, right?"

"Probably… The Ravenclaws don't."

"Yeah, but the Ravenclaws are all bloody geniuses, aren't they? They can't be bothered with a password when they could be testing their intelligence," said George, looking vaguely confused as to why anyone would want to mentally challenge themselves when they could be concentrating on, say, what prank to pull next. "The Hufflepuffs'll have a password, I'm sure of it," he repeated confidently. "We just need to hide somewhere and find out what it is."

Fred's eyes lit up. "Are you ready for some sneaking around?"

"When am I not?" smirked George. "Shall we follow Cedric-Diggory-the-Boy-Wonder?"

"Perfect," said Fred.

It was settled, and now there was nothing they could do but wait out the Easter holidays. At least they'd have plenty of chocolate to occupy themselves with. Oh, and Percy to avoid. It appeared he'd lugged home not only his own textbooks but the twins' as well, and was determined to force them into doing some revision over the holidays. If there was one thing they were sure about, Fred and George were not going to have their holiday spoilt with schoolwork!

* * *

><p>The first couple of days at the Burrow passed uneventfully. The twins de-gnomed the garden with Ron and Ginny, under Molly's watchful eye. She seemed reluctant to trust them with gnomes after the Christmas fiasco of the 'Spectacular Angel Gnome', as Fred and George had taken to calling it... After that, they had great fun locking Percy in the broom cupboard when he tried to force some Transfiguration practice papers on them. He was discovered twenty minutes later attempting to read his Charms book by the light coming in from the crack under the door. The entire Weasley family was actually beginning to become slightly worried about whether or not Percy would crack under the pressure before exam week. These were only Third Year tests, but he was cramming revision into every spare second as though his life depended on getting straight Outstandings.<p>

Then came Fred and George's birthday. Fred was woken early in the morning by a pillow flying into the side of his head. This was the twins' standard greeting for special occasions.

"Wake up!"

"I'm up, I'm up!" called Fred, a split-second too late, as another pillow whammed into his cheek.

"Happy birthday, mate," said George, grinning from ear to ear.

Fred stretched. "You too. So, what've we got for a plan this year?"

"Umm… I don't think we've got anything, actually. It appears that we will be making things up as we go along."

"Excellent, that's my favourite type!"

George glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "The time is thirty six minutes past four. The official countdown begins at…" he paused, working out the maths in his head. "T minus two hours and twenty four minutes."

It had become a tradition for Fred and George to play a trick on their family every year on their birthday. There was of course the obvious advantage that nobody was going to tell them off on their 'special day'. But on top of that, there was an added bonus that it was April Fool's Day. An entire day dedicated to pranks? It was better than Fred and George's wildest dreams. Arthur would always rue the day that he'd told them about that particular Muggle festivity…

In the two hours and twenty two minutes that followed, Fred and George hurried back and forth between various rooms, collected things, replaced things, hid things and generally spent a very hectic early morning preparing a multitude of quickly-thought-out pranks for their family. At two minutes to seven, they leapt back into their beds and shut their eyes tight, pretending to be asleep and waiting for Molly to come in and wake them up.

She was right on time. It was seven on the dot when the bedroom curtains were thrown open and Fred heard his mother's voice say, "Happy birthday! It's a lovely morning, isn't it? I'm just about to go down and get breakfast ready, so come on down as soon as you're ready. I believe there might even be some presents…"

After a display of yawning and stretching that would make even a woodland animal coming out of hibernation proud, Fred and George told Molly in their most innocent voices, doing their utmost to mask their sniggers, that they would be downstairs in just a minute. She looked closely at them, narrowing her eyes warily.

"Have you boys by any chance set a gnome loose in the kitchen?"

"Mum!" exclaimed Fred, trying to sound hurt.

"Really, we're offended! We're much more creative than that."

Molly's shoulders tensed. She looked as though she was bracing herself for a shock. "Please tell me you haven't somehow got your hands on a Niffler…"

"Fred was all up for that," said George cheerfully. Fred kicked him and he added hurriedly, "But we couldn't find one at such short notice. Ouch, Fred! Sorry, I mean, we would never do something like that."

"I hope that's true," said Molly, leaving the room.

"Let's give it two minutes and then go down," suggested Fred.

"That sounds about right," agreed George.

They both fixed their eyes on the clock, counting down the seconds.

"OK. Three… two… one… And let's go."

The twins sauntered downstairs as nonchalantly as they could. They had timed it just right. The second they reached the door to the kitchen, they heard a loud yelp, and the distinctive sound of clucking. Molly had just opened the cupboard where the bread was kept to be greeted by a very distressed chicken, which flapped out into her face. Earlier that morning, Fred and George had selected a hen from the coop outside that had just laid several eggs. Now, when the chicken in question noticed the eggs Molly was about to cook for breakfast, its small brain simply told it to do its normal thing, and it hopped onto the counter to sit itself happily down as if on a nest.

Fred and George exchanged a quick high five as they watched Molly shooing the chicken out of the door. She spun around to face them, her hands on her hips.

"So when you said you were more creative than putting a Niffler in the kitchen, you did in fact mean a chicken?"

The twins glanced at each other in satisfaction.

"Not one of our most cunning plans, I admit," said Fred.

"But effective all the same."

"Don't worry, Mum!"

"We'll make sure to find a Niffler for next year."

Fred and George spent an enjoyable day playing small tricks on each member of their family in turn. They had nothing major they could do, but this was at least as fun as a well-planned prank, and definitely more relaxing than usual (for them, if not the rest of the Weasleys). They had a lot of fun watching Ron stampede around the house trying to find his Chudley Canons figurines, which were eventually discovered in the attic, having a battle with Ginny's Holyhead Harpies ones while the ghoul watched excitedly on. And nothing could compare with the pleasure that Fred and George had after they snuck into the bathroom while Percy was having a shower and stole all the towels and his clothes. His fury when he found nothing but a note that said, '_Nice singing voice, Perce_,' was not to be reckoned with.

"This is highly immature!" Percy screamed, as he chased Fred and George around the garden. "Now give me back my underpants!"

"Never!"

By the evening, the entire family was exhausted. Molly had no energy left with which to tell Fred and George off, so she contented herself simply to watch as spectacular red and gold sparks from the twins' new Filibuster's Fireworks danced around the room, bouncing from floor to ceiling. In fact, even she was inclined to admit that it was rather pretty. At the very least, it was less destructive than the avalanche of sawdust that Fred and George had arranged to come spilling out of a cupboard that morning. It had landed all over Molly, Arthur and Charlie, who'd been unfortunately in the way at the time, and when they'd attempted to go up to the bathroom to wash it out of their hair, it was only to find the door locked with Percy inside growling, "Those monsters have stolen my clothes."

Yes. For Fred and George, this was definitely a peaceful birthday evening. And it was quite nice to have all the children back in the house again. Molly would never admit it to anyone, but she didn't actually particularly like the peace and quiet of having most of her sons away at Hogwarts.

This was much better.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry about the wait! I've been doing exams and working on other stories recently. I always have trouble switching my brain between different characters and time periods, so it took a while to get back into this! But I'm here now, anyway. I didn't really like the ending, but I was pleased with the rest so I'm just going to go ahead and post this! By the way, I just wanted to let you know that this story is now going to be 27 chapters long, not 26, on account of the fact that Chapters 16 and 17 were originally planned as only <strong>_**one**_** chapter, but I split it in half because it was taking too long. Sorry, I meant to say that last update but I forgot. :P  
><strong>


	19. Summer Exams

**Disclaimer: No, I didn't turn into JK Rowling overnight. Shame.**

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><p>"I'm only going to ask you once more – tell me the wand motion and the incantation for the Levitation Charm."<p>

"Don't you know it, Perce?" asked Fred, smirking.

"Tsk tsk, you are a Third Year… You should have learnt this a long time ago!" reprimanded George.

"Don't be cheeky," Percy told them, his cheeks flushing pink. "I am _trying _to help you revise! Your exams are in under a week, you know, and if you don't pass you won't be able to move on to Second Year."

Fred crossed his arms and turned to George. "Wasn't it… a jab and a wave?"

"Yes, I think so. And I'm pretty sure the incantation was 'Winged Explosa'."

Fred and George turned back to their older brother, identical smirks adorning their faces. Percy was breathing rather heavily, his knuckles turning white as he gripped _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ very tightly.

"Wrong again," he said through gritted teeth.

The Easter holidays had passed all too quickly for Fred and George's liking, and now they were a full two weeks into the Summer Term. With their exams looming over them, ready to start in just a few days, Percy had taken it upon himself, yet again, to try to drill a bit of knowledge into the twins' heads. Fred and George hadn't taken too kindly to this idea, and so far Percy had been subjected to statements from, 'The goblins started a revolution because they were sick of trolls pulling their ears,' to, 'The incantation 'Lumos' causes metal bolts to spring out of your wand and target the nearest teacher'. Percy was now nearing the end of his tether, and Fred and George had started a silent contest to see who could be the one to finally overstep the mark and make him explode with rage.

Fred widened his eyes in what he clearly hoped was a sweet and innocent expression. "Percy?"

"Yes?" said Percy warily.

"Why _did _the goblins rebel?"

Percy's expression lightened. "Well, you see," he began, "they thought that they deserved to carry wands so that they could discover the full extent of their magical abilities. However, the wizards were reluctant to pass over the secrets of wand lore to them, and so the goblins became angry. Ragnok the Third in particular, I believe, was-"

"Oh, so it wasn't because of the trolls?" interrupted Fred.

"I already told you, no," growled Percy.

"But I thought you said it was…"

"He's right, Perce, you definitely did say something."

"Something about trolls."

"Because then _I _said that your snoring reminded me of a troll-"

"Which is true, by the way-"

"You should listen to yourself, Percy, you could rival the ghoul!"

"It gives me a headache, to be honest with you."

"So are you sure the goblin rebellion wasn't to do with trolls?"

Percy's face had begun to turn purple by this point, and his teeth were clenched tightly together. Fred and George exchanged a quick glance and then pressed on ruthlessly.

Fred grinned. "If I was a goblin, I'd definitely rebel after hearing that racket."

George nodded sagely. "I completely agree, dear brother."

That was the last straw. Percy leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over backwards in the process.

"I GIVE UP!" he shouted. "You can fail your exams, for all I care. You are the most insolent, irritating, idiotic little twerps that I've ever had the misfortune to call my brothers. At this rate, you'll end up behind Ginny's year, and I for one will be glad to see it!"

At that, Percy strode away from their table and marched huffily up the stairs to his dormitory. The whole Gryffindor common room had gone quiet, everyone watching Percy's outburst. For a couple of minutes, the air was heavy with tension as the whole house stared in Fred and George's direction, but then someone broke the silence with a nervous giggle and normal conversation was gradually resumed. The twins grinned at each other.

"Twerp?" exclaimed George. "I've never heard him say anything like that!"

"We must have _really _got on his nerves," said Fred proudly.

"Anyway, no more Percy bothering us all the time. We can now officially fail in peace."

"I'd say that's one point to me," said Fred, after a slight pause, "since I got in the last proper comment."

"Ah, but it was me who started up the whole snoring thing."

"And me who started the troll thing in general."

George surveyed his twin for a second, his fingertips pressed together in front of his chin. "Shall we call it a draw?"

"Deal," said Fred, holding up his hand for a high five.

* * *

><p>Monday was the first day of exams. Percy shot a few smug looks in Fred and George's direction during breakfast, but to his obvious irritation, they both just continued to eat their toast cheerfully. Eventually, he gave up on looking for a reaction and concentrated instead on burying his nose in his textbook, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose with one hand as he feverishly flicked through the pages.<p>

The first exam that Fred, George and Lee had was a Transfiguration practical test that morning. Once they finished breakfast, the three boys made their way over to their usual classroom, where they found the rest of the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs sitting nervously outside the door, waiting to be called in.

"She's taking us in alphabetical order," explained Angelina.

"Do you know what we have to do?" asked George.

"No, she's sending people out through the other door so they can't tell us."

It wasn't too long before Angelina was called, and Lee followed about five minutes later. After sitting in boredom for a while longer, Fred began to glare at his watch, which showed him that they'd been waiting for over half an hour.

"Why are we cursed with a 'W' surname?" he said bitterly.

"Let's change our names."

"Fred and George Aardvark?" suggested Fred.

George gave him a look. "I think not. Do you want to be an aardvark?"

Fred considered this for a minute, and then said, "Then how about Fred and George Zonko?"

"I think you've forgotten the point of this name change," laughed George, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes..."

For a few minutes, the two of them discussed potential surnames, and then inspiration struck when George came up with the names 'Fred and George Filibuster'. Fred in particular was delighted with the alliteration of his new name, and he didn't even notice that he and George were the last students left sitting outside until the door opened and Professor McGonagall's head appeared in the frame.

"Fred Filibuster, Fred Filibuster," Fred was chanting, bobbing up and down in his seat.

"Mr Weasley?"

Fred almost toppled over sideways in shock as he noticed McGonagall giving him a slightly strange look.

"Actually, it's Mr Filibuster now," he informed her.

Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed slightly, but she disregarded his comment. "It's your turn now."

"I'll be right there, professor," said Fred.

"I'm glad to see that you've been using your wait productively," she said coolly, looking at him over the top of her spectacles.

"You know me, I always make sure work is my first priority!"

"Somehow I doubt that, Mr Weasley."

Fred could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile on McGonagall's lips, but she turned and marched back into the Transfiguration room before he could be certain. It was probably just a trick of the light, he decided; he wasn't sure that McGonagall had ever smiled in her life. Fred stood up to follow her into the classroom, giving a quick thumbs up sign to George, who had his hands clamped over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"Good luck!" he heard George say through his fingers, as the door shut behind him.

Fred looked around. The usual desks had been removed from the classroom and the posters taken down from the walls. The room was now almost empty, except for McGonagall's desk in front of the blackboard, which had a chair on either side. McGonagall was sat on the chair on the furthest side of the room. There were also, interestingly enough, two boxes, one on either side of her chair. One was full of cages of squeaking mice, the other filled with snuffboxes of varying shapes, sizes and… erm… furriness.

"Please take a seat, Mr Weasley," said McGonagall, gesturing to the other chair. Fred sat. "As you may have gathered already, your task will be to Transfigure a mouse into a snuffbox. Points will be added for prettier snuffboxes and deducted for mouselike tendencies."

Fred nodded mutely, resisting the temptation to ask whether or not snuffboxes with whiskers qualified as 'pretty'.

Professor McGonagall pulled a mouse from its cage and set it in front of Fred on the desk. It squeaked and attempted to run off the side of the desk, but Fred grabbed it around the middle and held it down in front of him again.

"You don't like me and I don't like you," he whispered to it, "But you'll be a snuffbox in a minute, and if you just co-operate, I'll try to make you into a nice one."

The mouse didn't seem to be particularly comforted by this idea. It glared up at Fred, its pink eyes reproachful (though that was probably due to being pinned on a desk as opposed to its ability to understand English).

Fred wracked his brain for the correct wand motion. When he couldn't think of anything, he just shrugged and gave his wand a wave as he said the incantation. There was a flash of purple light, and then a snuffbox sat in front of him. Well, more or less. The snuffbox was a silver metal with what Fred considered in his humble opinion to be some rather nice engravings, but it still appeared to have mouse ears and eyes.

_Maybe I can pull off the eyes as rubies_, thought Fred, looking sceptically at his handiwork. Unfortunately, he never had a chance to put this plan into action, as the snuffbox's eyes began to blink furiously up at him, effectively proving themselves not to be gemstones.

"Well done, Mr Weasley, that wasn't bad at all," said McGonagall to Fred's surprise, scooping up the snuffbox-mouse and placing it in the pile with the others. "You can go now."

"Thanks," said Fred, slipping out the door, flushed with his success.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and George appeared.

"How'd it go?" asked Fred.

"Rubbish," said George with a wry smile. "I prodded my mouse in the eye by accident, so it bit my finger and started trying to escape, and McGonagall had to give me a new one. And then my snuffbox had a tail. Oh, and it squeaked a few times, but I think I covered that up by coughing. How was yours?"

"All right. It had some eyes and ears though."

"I bet _Percy's_ was perfect."

"Probably had flashing lights and jewels."

"Probably had 'I love Professor McGonagall' engraved on it."

"Probably had 'Give me an O' on it."

"Wouldn't you love to see his face if he got a T?"

A dreamy look came over George's face as he said that, and the twins spent the rest of the walk back to the common room in companionable silence, imagining a world in which Percy failed his exams.

* * *

><p>Verbal abuse of Percy became a common theme during exam week, particularly after the harder exams, which were generally the written papers. However, Fred and George both thought by the last day that they'd managed to do relatively well overall. The only real problems had been for George in the Charms practical – though he'd made his pineapple do a perfectly acceptable tap dance, he'd somehow also turned it into a purple watermelon in the process – and Fred in Potions – his Forgetfulness Potion had been looking all right up until the point when his cauldron had exploded. Snape had looked extremely happy as he jotted down Fred's mark, tutting slightly under his breath.<p>

But now there was only one exam left and then they'd be free. This was History of Magic, and it was not one of the ones Fred, George and Lee had most been looking forward to. Nevertheless, after lunch on Friday, all of the First Years piled into the Great Hall, where they were given a depressingly thick question paper and a heavy scroll of parchment each, not to be released for another hour. Fred picked up his quill and began to scratch out his answers, his handwriting quickly degenerating and his hand beginning to ache as he trawled through dreary questions about the invention of Self-Stirring cauldrons, goblin rebellions and the many boring struggles between different candidates for Minister of Magic.

The sun was beating down on them through the window and right now, Fred desired nothing more than to be outside. Perhaps if he had no exams, he would be sitting by the lake, cracking jokes with George and Lee and tickling the Giant Squid's tentacles. He closed his eyes, smiling at the image in his head and beginning to feel slightly sleepy. In fact, he almost nodded off, but luckily he was snapped out of his reverie by someone near him knocking over their ink bottle with a loud crash.

_Bad Fred. Concentrate_, he scolded himself, shaking himself awake again.

He stared down at his half-completed exam, feeling a vague sense of hopelessness begin to wash over him as he saw the long stretches of blank parchment.

_Who was the Minister for Magic during the first goblin rebellion?_

How the bloody hell was he meant to know that? What did it matter anyway? Fred picked up his quill again and jotted down a made up name – Cyrus the Unworthy.

_What was his reaction to the rebellion?_

Fred delved into his imagination for a suitable answer, and was about to write that he'd chopped off the goblins' heads and stuck them on stakes, when he remembered Percy. With a small grin, Fred wrote, "He captured as many goblins as possible and forced them to listen to the snoring of trolls as torture. The goblins soon lost their sanity, leading to a second uprising, which was ended when a giant sat on the entire goblin army, squashing them flat." He wasn't entirely sure where the last bit had come from - somewhere in the murky depths of his brain, he supposed - but it would have to do.

_It has been said that the goblins' rebellion was the fault of the wizards and not the goblins. How far do you agree with this statement?_

Oh Merlin, an essay… Could this be much more dull? Quickly, before he lost the will to live, Fred scrawled his answer. "I agree with the statement more than I agree with Percy saying that being Head Boy is the key to success, but less than I agreed with George last week when he said that we should stick fireworks in the suits of armour on the third floor." Fred began to put down his quill again, but then added as an afterthought, "Not that that was us, of course. Though you must admit that the explosions were pretty cool."

Fred flipped over the paper and discovered to his pleasure that he'd finished. He glanced up at the clock and saw that he still had fifteen minutes left, so he put his head down on his arms and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck and revelling in the chance to relax. He let himself slip into a happy daydream where he and George were winning the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor as Beaters, until he was wrenched from his own mind by the words, "Please put down your quills. The exam is now over."

Professor Sprout, who had been invigilating the exam, summoned the scrolls of parchment, and Fred joined the swarm of students pressing their way out of the Great Hall, looking around for George and Lee.

"We're free!" whooped Lee as he caught sight of the twins. "Finally!"

"Race you to the lake! Last one there gets fed to the Giant Squid," grinned Fred, setting off at a run.

"Oi, you got a head start!" George called after him. "Not fair."

In the end, Lee managed to put on a burst of speed just as the three of them were nearing the lake, overtaking both Fred and George and flopping down on the bank, breathing heavily. Fred arrived next, with George just half a second behind him.

"The Giant Squid's getting hungry," Fred teased him.

"Ha ha, aren't you hilarious?" said George. "Hang on, what are you doing? Let go!"

Fred had grabbed his brother around the middle and started trying to heave him towards the lake.

"Come on, Lee, a bit of help would be nice."

Lee, who'd been sitting laughing on the ground, hurriedly scrambled up.

"You get his feet, I'll get his arms," Fred ordered.

"Let… go… of me… you idiots!" yelled George, kicking and struggling as his legs were seized by Lee and Fred grabbed him under the armpits.

"No chance! You're going in!" shouted Fred happily.

Through a joint effort from Fred and Lee, George was dumped unceremoniously in the lake. After a few seconds, he emerged from its depths, spluttering and spitting out water.

"You're complete tossers," he told Fred and Lee, shaking water droplets from his hair and robes as he pulled himself out of the lake to lie on the grass.

"You love me really," grinned Fred. "And it was totally worth it."

"I'll get you some day!" said George, narrowing his eyes threateningly, though he was trying to suppress a grin as he did so. "When you least expect it – bam! I'll chuck you in the lake. I'll do it in the winter if you're too much of a prat."

"You wouldn't dare," said Fred, though he edged away from the bank as he spoke.

"Oh wouldn't I?" said George, a sparkle lighting up in his eyes.

Fred sat up slightly nervously. He held his hands out in front of him and opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late; George launched himself at his twin, spraying water everywhere around them, and began attempting to wrestle him into the lake, both of them shrieking with laughter as they rolled around on the ground. It took Fred a good couple of minutes to register Lee's voice from next to them.

"Guys. Guys!" he was saying urgently.

"What?" said Fred and George simultaneously, abandoning their scuffle on the floor and sitting up.

"I just remembered - Hufflepuff! We need to work out their password!"

Fred's eyes widened; he'd totally forgotten about their plan; and he leapt to his feet. "No time like the present."

The three of them sprinted off to look for a Hufflepuff to follow, George still sopping wet, his red hair falling into his eyes and drops of water trickling down onto his forehead. Soon, they reached the Entrance Hall. As George worriedly looked around to make sure that Filch wasn't in sight to see him dripping on the floor, Fred's eyes flicked across the Entrance Hall, trying to catch a glimpse of a yellow and black tie. Suddenly, with a leap of his stomach, he spotted someone.

"It's Wonder Boy Diggory," he whispered, elbowing George in the ribs.

"Excellent, let's follow him before Filch and that blasted cat turn up," George replied.

The three of them quietly tiptoed down the corridor, keeping at a good distance from Cedric as he (hopefully) made his way towards the Hufflepuff common room. Fred's heart was pounding at about twice its usual speed. If they messed this up, they would have to come up with another plan. This was the best chance they were likely to get for a long time; they had to use it well.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I don't know where the lake scene came from – it just kind of happened, and I decided to leave it in. Next up is the Hufflepuff common room. By the way, we've now hit the fifty review mark! Thank you so, so much to everyone who's reviewed – you've all made me insanely happy and I can't thank you enough! :D And on another note, as you may have noticed, this story now has a cover, yay! I got very excited over the whole cover thing and probably spent about as much time drawing and editing one as I did writing this chapter… Oops. Oh, and the text does say 'Fred, George and the Secrets of Hogwarts', but I accidentally made it a bit too small to read well. Sorry. :P<strong>


	20. The Badger's Den

**Disclaimer: Aaaaand… I have a surprise for you lot! I now own Harry Potter! *****Throws streamers into crowd***

…**Please tell me you didn't fall for that. I do not in fact own Harry Potter. All rights and so on **_**still**_** go to the amazing JK Rowling, along with Warner Bros. and so on.**

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><p>Cedric seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he was being followed by three other First Years, despite the constant plinking sound as water droplets fell from George's hair and clothes to hit the floor. George winced every time he heard it, but Cedric never turned around. It didn't take long for Fred, George and Lee to forget about their nerves, and they soon started to enjoy following Cedric; they had great fun getting into the spirit of things and hiding behind suits of armour every time they thought he might turn around. In fact, they were almost disappointed when he stopped on the corridor that led to the kitchens, putting an end to their chase. The twins and Lee were only about six feet away from him, but their view was obscured by the suit of armour behind which they'd taken refuge. They could just about see Cedric turning to face a portrait on the wall, but that was all.<p>

"What's he doing?" hissed George. "I can't get a good look."

"I dunno," said Fred. "I'll try to get a bit closer."

Fred, with the air of a master spy, got down on his hands and knees on the floor, and peeked carefully out from underneath the suit of armour. He crawled forwards, watching Cedric closely. Cedric pulled out his wand from his pocket, and was just raising it, when he happened to look over to his left - exactly where Fred was kneeling.

"Oh, hello," Cedric said, sounding slightly surprised as his eyes alighted on Fred, who was still flat on the floor.

Fred panicked and tried to leap backwards out of sight. Instead, he hit his head on the suit of armour, almost knocking it over with a loud clanging noise. Cursing himself for his clumsiness, he pulled himself to his feet, trying to look as casual as he possibly could.

"Hi, Cedric."

"Are you Fred or George? I can't tell you apart, sorry."

"I'm George," Fred replied promptly.

A foot, identical to his own, swung out from behind the suit of armour and kicked Fred in the back of the shin.

"Git," George's voice muttered from out of sight, and Cedric looked interestedly at the armour.

"Ouch." Fred leaned down to rub his leg. "Sorry, yeah, I'm Fred."

"Oh, OK. Um… If you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you doing here?"

"Nothing much." Fred fought to keep his voice light and offhand. "Just looking round the bits of the castle we haven't been in, you know. This corridor's particularly exciting, don't you think? And that bit of floor under the suit of armour was... was very interesting."

"Was it?" said Cedric doubtfully. "Well, don't mind me, I was just going back to my common room."

Without even waiting for Fred to leave, he withdrew his wand again. Fred surreptitiously leaned over and saw that the portrait in front of Cedric was of a old wizard dressed in yellow. Cedric tapped the wizard's bulbous nose, and said, "Helga". The portrait suddenly moved smoothly to the left, leaving a large, circular hole.

"See you around," said Cedric, giving Fred a wave.

He climbed through the hole, which closed quickly behind him, and Fred was left gaping in astonishment at the point where Cedric had just vanished.

"That guy is seriously too trusting," he said eventually, turning to George and Lee, who'd re-emerged from their hiding place.

"Did he…?" Lee trailed off, sounding a little confused. "Did he just give the password with you standing right there?"

"Yes, Lee, he did indeed," smirked Fred. "But I'm not complaining if he's a gullible idiot. Now we'd better get out of here before a teacher turns up!"

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><p>Back in their dormitory, Fred, George and Lee kept the Marauder's Map spread out in front of them at all times, watching as all the Hufflepuffs gradually left their common room for the greenhouses, instead of going up to dinner with the rest of the school. At last, there was nobody left in the Hufflepuff common room, so George stuffed the map into his pocket, and the three of them set off for the corridor by the kitchens.<p>

They walk there was easy. They didn't even see any teachers, and they soon ground to a halt in front of the portrait of the yellow-robed wizard, nobody else in sight. George whipped the Marauder's Map out of his pocket, and after checking that the Hufflepuff common room was still student-free, he pulled out his wand.

"Helga," he whispered, hitting the wizard's nose with his wand.

The wizard grumbled slightly and began to rub his the point where George had bashed him, and then the portrait slid back into the wall, leaving a sizeable hole for Fred, George and Lee to climb through. Once the portrait hole had closed again, the three Gryffindors were plunged into darkness. George stuck his arms out, feeling around for the wall. His fingers made contact with something soft, but-

"Ouch, that was my face," growled Lee.

"Sorry," whispered George.

He took a step forwards, and suddenly torches sprang into life along the sides of the chamber. For a second, the twins were gobsmacked, unable to say anything. They stared around in amazement.

"Bloody hell," said Fred.

"Blimey," muttered George at the same time.

"What, in the name of Merlin's fluffy bunny slippers, are we going to do now?"

For instead of finding themselves in a common room like their own, Fred, George and Lee were standing in a wide tunnel, lit by the fiery torches at the sides. It looked rather like a hollowed out cave with earthy brown walls, and in front of them, the tunnel branched off into three separate routes. Fred peered down the passage to his left, and could see that it too split in two different directions at the end.

"I suppose now we know why Cedric didn't mind us knowing the password," said Lee eventually.

"I thought Hufflepuffs were meant to be thick!" burst out Fred. "But oh no, they have to have a bloody maze to get to their common room."

"I think it's meant to be like a badger's den," said George slowly.

"Does that _matter_?"

"Well, if it is modelled on a den, then I _think _we can pick any tunnel."

"And why the hell would you think that?"

"Because there's no point in having dead end tunnels unless it's to fool intruders!"

"Um... Sorry, but what are you talking about?"

George sighed. "Remember when we were little and we tried to climb down into a badger's den?"

"Vaguely…"

"And we told Mum we just wanted to see what it was like inside, so she decided to explain it to us. She said there was a large hole in the middle with lots of tunnels leading off it to different exits."

"So you reckon that all these passageways just lead round to come to the same place from different angles?" said Lee, catching onto George's idea and gesturing at the tunnels in front of them.

"Yeah. The Hufflepuff common room only has one entrance, but it probably still has lots of tunnels going into the main bit."

Fred still looked slightly sceptical. "What if it's not meant to be a den; what if it's just so invaders from other houses, like us, can't find their way into the Hufflepuffs' common room?"

George shrugged. "The tunnels would still put them off a bit. That is, if the invaders in question weren't geniuses like me who worked the whole thing out within minutes," he finished, with a smug grin.

"It's the best plan we've got," said Lee, "and even if this is just a maze, we'll have to pick a route eventually."

Fred sighed, realising he was beaten. "All right. But if we trail around for hours and then realise we're lost, I _will _feed you to the Giant Squid," he said, giving George the evil eye.

"Deal," said George brightly.

They picked the middle passageway, and strode confidently off down it in the hopes that it would lead them to the Hufflepuff common room. Next, they took the left, and then a right, another right, and the middle tunnel again. Ten minutes later, they were still caught up in the network of tunnels, with no sign of the end wherever they looked.

"It can't be too much further," said Lee desperately. "Or the Hufflepuffs would be late for every lesson."

"They probably just know the short cuts," said Fred gloomily. "George, if this goes on much longer, you're squid food."

George quickened his pace, looking slightly nervous. They turned another corner, and then there was a sudden flash of blue light around them. Fred felt his feet leave the floor; it was almost as if his step had lengthened until he was flying through the air. The walls around them seemed to fade out of existence, and then, without warning, he, George and Lee were deposited in a heap at the doorway to a large chamber – the Hufflepuffs' common room.

Fred pulled himself to his feet, brushing down his robes, and looked around. The room was filled with squashy yellow armchairs and low tables. A fire blazed merrily in one corner, casting a warm glow over the rug on the floor, and there were two staircases leading away to the dormitories, just like in the Gryffindor common room.

"What the hell just happened?" asked Lee, sounding slightly dazed.

"I- I don't know… It was kind of like a Portkey, wasn't it?" said George.

"How come the Hufflepuffs have such a cool way to get into their common room? I mean, we only get a password and here they are with bloody teleportation tunnels!"

Fred walked over to the side of the room, where there was a noticeboard.

"Hey, look at this," he said, pointing at a large poster in the middle.

_Reminder to all Hufflepuffs: To enter or leave the common room, simply stand on an inscription of a badger on the ground. These inscriptions are dotted throughout the maze, so don't worry if you get lost!_

"Wow, they're really obsessed with their house animal, aren't they?" commented Lee. "We don't have lions all over the place."

"Yeah, I know!" said Fred. "What is this? Badgermania?"

He turned to examine the passageway they'd come through. On the floor of the tunnel there was indeed a picture of a badger, scratched into the ground so faintly that none of them would have noticed it if they hadn't known it was there. He supposed it was just good luck that they'd happened to pass over a picture before they, say, died of thirst. He turned to glare at George, who was shuffling uncomfortably.

"Can we bear in mind that I've already been chucked in the lake once today?" George said nervously.

"I don't know… We did have a deal," smirked Fred.

"But technically, this _is_ based on a badger's den. It's just… um… a magical badger's den."

Fred considered for a moment. "Sorry, it's just too much fun seeing you get soaked."

"What a lovely, caring brother you are."

"You know you love me really! Now come on, let's find a Hufflepuff item, quickly."

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><p>Fred, George and Lee began to comb over the room, searching through all the objects on the shelves and tables. They needed something that could represent the house well; perhaps something with the Hufflepuff colours, or yet another badger-based item.<p>

Fred was just pawing through a stack of books on one of the tables, when he heard a loud groan from his left. A shot of adrenalin ran through him and he swung around to see George staring in horror at something on the shelf.

"What's wrong, what've you found?" said Fred urgently, rushing over to his twin.

"A Hufflepuff item," said George weakly.

"Is that all?" said Fred indignantly. "You scared the life out of me; I thought you'd seen a teacher coming or something!"

"No, look at this."

George pulled something very small off the shelf and held it up for Fred to see. It was a chocolate frog card, with Helga Hufflepuff on it. Fred stared at it, speechless, for a few seconds.

"You mean we came all the way up here, risking detentions, hundreds of deducted points and all manner of dreadful things, and now all we have to show for it is a chocolate frog card?"

"Yes."

"A chocolate frog card we could have got anywhere else?"

"Yes."

Fred buried his face in his hands, letting out a sigh.

"Let's just find something else," said George eventually. "If we're going to go to all the trouble of breaking in here, I want something decent at least!"

"Agreed."

The two of them returned to their search, feeling slightly put out. Fred and George were pretty sure they had all the Hogwarts founders in their chocolate frog card collection at home. They were pretty miffed by the idea that they could have had the whole search for items over and done with by the Christmas holidays. Still, they were nearly finished now, and soon they'd be able to start the real challenge! Perhaps even tonight…

"How about this?" called Lee from the other side of the room, after a few more minutes.

He was pointing up at the shelf on top of the fireplace, where a strange creature was hunched, staring down at Lee and the twins. It was yellow and black striped, and it had large, protuberant black eyes. Creepily, whenever the three First Years moved to one side or the other, its head would swing slightly, keeping its gaze glued on them.

"What- What is that?" asked George, sounding revolted.

Lee reached up bravely and prodded it with one finger. Nothing happened.

"I think…" His voice trailed off. "I think it's a stuffed badger."

There was a pause.

"It's the creepiest thing ever!" said Fred and George in unison, identical grins lighting up their faces.

"Let's take it," finished Fred.

Lee rubbed his hands together. "All right, commence Operation Badger-Napping."

He reached up, grabbing the stuffed badger around the middle, and shoved it into his school bag. Its head twisted around in a full circle, keeping its wide, unblinking eyes fixed on Lee. He shuddered and shut his bag tightly so he wouldn't have to look at it any more.

"We'll be doing the Hufflepuffs a favour really, taking it off their hands," said Fred cheerfully. "It probably scares the wits out of them."

"Ugh, imagine trying to do homework with that thing staring at you…"

"Yeah... But now that's done... let's get out of here!"

They sprinted across the room to the nearest exit. Fred scanned the ground quickly, checking for the badger sign. Catching sight of the picture embedded in the dirt, he leapt onto it and immediately felt himself being whisked away through space, along with George and Lee. Luckily, the three of them landed right by the portrait hole instead of at a point somewhere in the middle of the maze. They clambered out quickly, and set off back towards the Gryffindor common room, where they felt much more comfortable.

Once they were back up in their dormitory, Lee pulled the stuffed badger out of his bag and set it on the floor. It waddled a couple of paces away from them and then crouched down again, its dark eyes flicking between Fred, George and Lee. Fred fancied it looked slightly doleful, as if it were mournfully wishing it could be back with the Hufflepuffs. He laughed slightly at the thought, and seized the badger, stuffing it tightly into his trunk along with the Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw objects.

They were prepared. They were ready.

"Shall we go down to dinner now?" said Lee. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, OK. And then… well, why don't we just go for it?" said George.

"This evening?" Lee sounded incredulous.

Fred grinned. "No time like the present."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm so, so sorry about the delay in updating! I've taken on too many challenges and contests, and I got a bit side-tracked by them. Hopefully the gap before the next chapter will be much shorter. Thanks for sticking with me! By the way, I just couldn't resist doing something interesting for the Hufflepuff common room, even though I know it's highly unrealistic and possibly quite confusing! Sorry, I think I went a bit overboard, but I really enjoyed writing it! <strong>

**Full credit goes to ****Blue Luver5000**** for the stuffed badger idea. Thank you!  
><strong>

**As always, reviews are very much appreciated. Even if it's just you ranting at me about my inability to update regularly, if that's what you're in the mood to talk about! :P**


	21. The Challenge Begins

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter = Not mine. JK Rowling = Not me.**

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><p>Fred, George and Lee ate dinner as quickly as they possibly could, desperate to set out to undertake their challenge as quickly as possible. They'd finally agreed to go for it that night, when they were meant to be going to bed. They had decided to think of it as an end of exams celebration, and as Fred pointed out, "Friday night's the best time <em>–<em> we've got until Monday morning before the teachers notice we're gone."

Though neither George or Lee intended to be stranded in the Forbidden Forest all weekend, they'd both agreed. Soon, the castle had become quiet, and most of the students were in bed. Fred, George and Lee, on the other hand, were sitting in a huddle on the floor of their dormitory, making last minute preparations. Lee had even taken it upon himself to make a checklist.

"Godric Gryffindor figurine?"

"Check," said Fred, adding it to the bag.

"Snake skins?"

"Check." George placed them next to the figurine.

"Ravenclaw brooch thingy?"

"Check."

"Creepy staring badger?"

"Check."

"Wands?"

"Check. We're not complete idiots, Lee."

"Food?"

"We don't need food for this! Are you turning into our Mum?"

"Ha, ha. Hilarious. Marauder's Map?"

"Check."

"And last but not least, hair pins in case any locks need picking."

"Check!"

With a flourish, George added the last item to the bag. He stood up, hefting it onto his shoulder, and made his way over to the door.

"Are we ready, gentlemen?" he said, turning to face Fred and Lee and twirling his imaginary moustache with one finger.

"Yes sir!" they replied smartly, saluting him.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," muttered George, pointing his wand at the Marauder's Map.

He scanned it quickly for anyone who might stop them onto their way out. Filch was on the third floor, well away from them, and Mrs Norris was on the fifth floor. Peeves was in the library, probably wreaking some kind of havoc that would keep him busy for a while. Dumbledore, Snape and Lyndon were all in their respective offices or classrooms, and the only potential threat that George could see was Professor McGonagall, who was pacing up and down the Entrance Hall. However, as he watched, her dot moved off towards the library, presumably to deal with Peeves, which left their route clear.

"All right, we're safe. Let's make a dash for it," said George. "Mischief managed," he added, wiping the map and stuffing it back into his bag.

The three twelve-year-olds quickly descended the stairs into their common room, and then climbed out of the portrait hole to the darkened corridor outside, ignoring the grumbles from the Fat Lady as she was woken up. They hurried through the school as quietly as they could, avoiding the trick steps with a practised ease and treading with light feet. It was only when they were passing the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that any of them spoke.

"Oh, God," Fred suddenly said, grinding to a halt.

"Shhh," whispered George. "What's wrong?"

Fred had gone slightly pale. "We forgot about the acromantulas - they live in that clearing, remember."

George felt like kicking himself.

"Can't we just try and dodge them?" said Lee hopefully.

"You didn't see them - they're bloody massive," shuddered George.

He began to wrack his brains for a quick solution. If they were going to be forced to go back to their dormitory now and wait until they worked out a safe route past the spiders, it would be a real let down.

"Hang on," said Fred suddenly. "There was something they said they were afraid of, wasn't there?"

"Oh yeah… What was it?" George thought hard for a moment more, and then the answer came to him. "Snakes!"

"That was it! Erm… Do we have any snakes with us?"

George crossed his arms and mock-glared at Fred. "If you're suggesting bringing along a Slytherin, then the answer is no."

"Ah, come on, wouldn't you just love to have Pucey tagging along?" grinned Fred.

George opened his mouth to make a reply, but he was interrupted by Lee.

"We have snake _skins_. Will they do?"

Fred and George stared at Lee in astonishment.

"Yeah…" said Fred slowly, after a second.

"That might just work," continued George.

"Lee you're a genius," they finished together.

Lee gave them a bow, twirling his hands ostentatiously, and the three of them set off again. They managed to sneak out of the school without being discovered by anyone, and quickly made their way towards the forest. Fred and George led the way down the same route that they'd taken during their detention. The sun was beginning to go down by now, and it was quite dark beneath the thick canopy of leaves, which was setting George slightly on edge. Every time his feet snapped a twig, or he heard leaves shifting, he jumped slightly, expecting some kind of terrifying monster, or worse, a teacher, to leap out at them.

However, the journey passed without incident, and after about five minutes, they came to the wide patch of Knotgrass that the twins remembered from their detention. They slowed to a halt, trying to work out which way they'd gone to reach the clearing. George was about to point out the route he thought they'd followed, when he heard a sudden rustling noise behind them, almost like an extra set of footsteps.

"What was that?" he hissed.

"What was what?" said Lee.

"I thought I heard footsteps."

"It was probably just a centaur or something," said Fred, though he sounded slightly uneasy.

The three of them paused in silence for a few seconds, their ears pricked for any more noise, but none came.

"Oh well, let's just carry on," said George eventually. "The sooner we get there the better. I think it's this way."

He pointed at a thicket of bushes to the left, and they continued into the forest. He must have been right, because not long after, the three Gryffindors came to the pair of trees that Fred and George remembered. They stepped through and found themselves in the familiar square-shaped clearing.

"Excellent," said Fred, grinning.

"Wow, this is cool!" said Lee, wandering over to the edge of the clearing to peer at each of the four trees that marked the different houses.

"Come on, let's try and get this done before we get side-tracked by spiders," suggested George.

"What do you have to do?" asked Lee.

Fred crossed over to the stone platform in the middle of the glade.

"You just have to press down on this," he said.

When the other two had joined him in by the stone plinth, he pushed it down with one hand. There was a click and a scrape as it began to move into the earth. When it settled into place, Fred reached into the hole that had been left and found the doorknob. As he had done before, he twisted it hard. An echoing crack sounded behind them, and Fred and George hurried towards the Slytherin tree, where they knew they could place the snake skins.

As they had guessed, a cavity had appeared in the tree trunk over the picture of the snake. George slid his hand into it and pulled out the same small scroll as last time, which read, 'Please place your item here'. He grabbed the snake skins out of his bag and shoved them into the hole, replacing the scroll as well. He'd only just pulled his hand out of the way, when with a loud bang, the trunk resealed itself around the skins.

Fred, George and Lee turned just in time to see the gnarled bark of the next tree, the Hufflepuff one, split open over its badger symbol. This time, Fred did the honours, jamming the stuffed badger into the hole.

"I'll be glad to see the back of that thing," he said, as the trunk pulled shut, breaking the gaze of the stuffed badger's mournful, staring eyes.

"Do you want to do the next one?" said George to Lee, as the Gryffindor tree opened.

"Umm… OK."

Lee looked and sounded slightly dazed, having not had the advantage of visiting the clearing before with Fred and George. However, he took the figurine of Godric Gryffindor and slipped it into the chink in the trunk, watching in awe as it was consumed by the tree. This only left the Ravenclaw tree, so it wasn't long before all the items had been deposited. Fred, George and Lee stood in tense silence, waiting for something to happen. In fact, they continued waiting for a good couple of minutes, but still nothing happened.

"Have we done something wrong?" piped up Fred eventually.

"There isn't a fifth house, is there?" said George, his forehead creasing.

"Yeah, didn't you know?" said Lee with a grin. "It's called… um… Charynder. You've got to be over seven feet tall to get in, and its house emblem is a- Merlin's pants, spider!"

"Sorry, what?" laughed Fred. "Is its emblem Merlin's pants, or a spider?"

"They obviously drew the short straw," said George.

"No, no, no, no! Seriously, there's a spider!"

Lee pointed frantically over Fred and George's shoulders, and, suddenly realising what he was on about, the twins swung around. There was a huge acromantula climbing out through the trees into their clearing.

"Oh, God…" mumbled Fred. "Here I was thinking we'd escaped."

"Quick! Do something!" hollered George.

He shot a blast of red sparks at the spider. It seemed momentarily confused, and stopped mid-step, shaking its head violently. Unfortunately, it soon seemed to recover, and it began to move towards the twins and Lee again, looking rather angry and clicking its pincers menacingly. George stumbled backwards away from it, fumbling his wand in sweaty fingers and trying to think of a spell, any spell, that might ward the spider off.

"We've got snake skins and we aren't afraid to use them!" shouted Fred bravely from his side.

He dipped his hand into the bag, felt around for the moment, and then his mouth dropped open.

"OK, so we haven't got the snake skins any more," he muttered. "Plan B _–_ run!"

"Petrificus Totalus," George heard Lee yell, but the jet of light just bounced off the spider's skin.

George was forced to duck Lee's spell, which rebounded towards him. He jumped back, and suddenly he felt his foot drop into a hole. He tripped, sprawling onto the ground and scattering dry leaves around him, and he just had time to think, _This is it; I'm spider food_, when there was a great flash of dazzling white light directly behind him, spraying sparks around the clearing.

George jerked his head around so fast his neck clicked, but he saw at once what had happened. He'd stepped onto the stone platform, which was still lowered into the ground, and had somehow activated the next step of the challenge. The light continued to glow brightly around the plinth for a second, then died away, and George scrambled over to the hole to see what had happened. He reached down into the hole and, after scrabbling around in a blind panic for a moment, felt his fingers connect with metal – an ornate silver key.

"Fred, Lee, get over here!" he called.

He quickly slotted the key into the keyhole below the doorknob and twisted it. There was a click as something unlocked, and then the stone beneath him seemed to swing away, leaving a long chute, the end of which George couldn't see.

"Fred! Lee!"

"Coming! Just trying to get past this _bloody great arachnid_!" came back Fred's rather agitated voice.

George sighed. "Here, spidey, spidey, spidey!" he called, waving his arms.

The acromantula looked round and saw George, who was already beginning to feel quite a lot more nervous. The spider began to scuttle towards him across the clearing, but George had given Fred and Lee the time they needed. They appeared at his side, breathing heavily.

"Quick! Down the hole!" George told them, and, wasting no time in obeying, they clambered over to the gap in the ground.

The acromantula was now very close to George _–_ uncomfortably close, actually. He fancied he could feel its breath ruffling his hair, and he could definitely see each of its eight hairy legs in much more vivid detail than he would have liked. He gulped as it blinked its glistening eyes, drawing ever nearer. George looked back round to see the top of Fred's ginger head disappearing down the chute. Lee gave him the thumbs up and dropped straight in after Fred. George spared one last glance at the acromantula, and then hurled himself into the pipe along with his two best friends, relief washing over him (though that was probably a ridiculous feeling for someone who was currently dropping deep into the ground).

The chute was very long and steep, made of a smooth metal that was cool to the touch. George quickly relaxed and found himself rather enjoying the drop and the swooping feeling in his stomach as the chute twisted and turned, but just as he was getting into it, he was deposited abruptly on the floor at the bottom. He was glad to discover that he'd landed on something soft and squishy, which had broken his fall. Soon, however, he realised that the something was a heap made up of Fred and Lee.

"Everyone OK?" Lee asked, extracting himself from the tangle of limbs.

"I think so," said Fred, his voice muffled by George's arm, which had somehow found its way into his mouth.

George pulled his arm free from his brother's jaws and clambered to his feet. He reached down to yank Fred up, and then began looking around the chamber that they'd just landed in. It was obviously very deep underground, as the only light that illuminated the room came from the fiery torches that lined the walls, casting an eerie orange glow over the floor. The chamber was circular and made of entirely of stone, and it had a high, arching roof with an elaborate pattern of twirling leaves engraved into it.

"Very fancy," commented Lee.

As they stared upwards, examining the ceiling, George suddenly noticed something falling out of the air towards them. Fred, standing next to him, reached up with one hand and caught it out of the air. It turned out to be yet another scroll of parchment, which Fred carefully began to unroll. The second the scroll was flattened out, there came a loud bang and a puff of smoke. At the other side of the room, two archways materialised. In front of the one of the left, blue flames instantly sprang up, and in front of the one on the right, there were red flames.

Fred, George and Lee exchanged a glance, and George nudged Fred in the arm. "Go on, read it."

Fred nodded, cleared his throat and then lowered his eyes back to the scroll.

"You have now completed the first stage of your challenge, and collected an item from each of the four houses. For this, we congratulate you. It is obvious that you are very capable."

"They got that right," grinned George, preening himself.

"However, your challenge is only just beginning. If you continue, you will face danger beyond that which you have ever encountered before, and therefore we feel obliged to present you with a choice. Should you decide to go on with this trial, you must pass through the red flames on your right. If you do not wish to persist, you can go through the blue flames on the left, which will transport you back to Hogwarts castle. Think carefully, for once you have made your decision, there will be no going back."

Here, Fred paused in his reading, and the three First Years looked around at each other. Eventually, Lee said aloud what all of them were thinking.

"Let's go on. We have to now."

"Agreed," said the twins in unison.

Fred lifted the parchment again, reading out the last few sentences. "So now the time has come to make up your minds once and for all. Danger or safety? Adventure or an anti-climax? Red flame or blue? The choice is in your hands."

Fred lowered the scroll, his blue eyes alight with excitement. There was a slight pause, and then he said with a small smirk, "Wow. Pretentious much?"

George snorted with laughter, and then the three of them turned as one towards the red fire in front of the right-hand archway.

"Ready?" whispered Fred.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Shall we take it at a run, like the King's Cross barrier?"

"Yeah."

The archway was wide enough for all three of them to pass through at the same time, so after exchanging a final glance with each other, they began to run towards the fire. George drew in a deep breath as they came closer and closed his eyes, feeling as though he would be unable to pluck up the courage to continue running if he could see the flames around him. All at once, he felt a cool, licking sensation as the fire lapped around his sides, and then it was over. He opened his eyes just in time to stop himself from crashing into a new stone wall and pulled himself to a stop.

There was a grinding noise from behind them, and Fred, George and Lee spun around to see bricks sliding across through the air to fill in the archway behind them. They were now trapped in this new chamber, which was small and square. The only way to go was forwards. Slowly, the three of them turned back round. In front of them was a simple wooden door, upon which the emblem of a snake was emblazoned.

"It would be Slytherin first, wouldn't it?" muttered Fred.

Suddenly, a female voice sounded, echoing around the stone walls of the chamber and filling it with noise.

"You are about to enter a series of tasks," it said. "There will be one challenge for each house, and to succeed, you must display the qualities of that house. Now it only remains for me to say… Good luck."

It took a few seconds for the last echoes of the voice to fade away, and Lee and the twins were left staring at the door in total silence.

"Shall we just go for it?" said Lee, his voice quiet.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go," said Fred.

He reached forwards and grabbed the door handle with one hand, his face set in determination. George could feel his stomach fizzing with anticipation and adrenalin, and his heart was pounding loudly somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. The door swung silently open, and before they could lose their nerve, the three boys stepped through.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Yay, quick update! Hopefully chapters will continue to come quickly for the moment. I'm on summer holiday, which helps, and now that the story is getting into the more exciting stuff, I'm more excited to write, haha! I hope you're all still enjoying it, anyway. :P<strong>


	22. The Serpent

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Harry Potter isn't mine. If only…**

* * *

><p>"Bloody hell."<p>

"What happens now?"

Fred, George and Lee stared around the room in disbelief. It was large and followed a curved shape, slightly like a crescent moon, with dim lighting that meant they had difficulty in seeing anything properly. And most worryingly, it was covered by a wide river of water, sweeping right across from where they were standing to a door at the end of the room. The door was embossed with a picture of a badger – it was obviously the Hufflepuff challenge next. But first, they had to deal with this... Fred scanned the water dubiously, biting his lip. It looked very deep, and was a dark green colour. It looked calm enough, but Fred couldn't help but be certain that there would be some kind of trap lurking in wait for them if they broke the surface.

"Are we supposed to swim?" Lee asked unsurely.

"I haven't got a clue," said Fred. "Maybe?"

He stepped forwards tentatively, and then, seemingly triggered by his movement, another scroll of parchment fell from the ceiling to land in his waiting hands.

"They seem to quite like this whole scroll thing, don't they?" Fred commented with a raise of his eyebrow, as he began to unroll the parchment.

George and Lee stepped closer to look over his shoulder, and Fred's eyes started to flick across the page.

_Rules_

_You have now entered a human board game. As soon as you all finish reading these guidelines, the game will begin. Stepping stones will appear across the lake in front of you. You must jump between the stones to progress through the room. However, it is not as simple as it sounds._

"Of course not," muttered Fred as he read.

_On each stone, you will be told at random either to stay where you are and wait until your next go, to move forwards, to move backwards, or to attempt a challenge. If you succeed in the task that is set for you, you will be allowed to move one step forwards. If you do not, you will be returned to the beginning of the game. Be warned that as you progress, the challenges you must face will become more and more difficult – and dangerous._

_Good luck._

The moment all three of them had reached the end of the rules, the parchment disintegrated in Fred's hands, and with a popping noise, flat stepping stones began to appear in front of them, spaced relatively evenly over the water. Then, as if an invisible quill was writing in the air, glowing red letters faded into view, hovering above them.

_Player One, please begin._

"At least they're polite," commented George.

"Sounds simple enough anyway," said Fred.

"So, who's going first?"

Fred, George and Lee looked around at each other, each waiting for another to volunteer. After a moment of tense silence, Fred squared his shoulders and raised his chin in what he hoped was a heroic and noble pose.

"I'll start," he said.

"Rather you than me," smirked Lee.

Fred stepped forwards to the edge of the river. The first stepping stone was quite close to them – only a few feet away. Fred drew in a deep breath and leapt over the gap to land smartly in the centre of the stone. There was a loud beeping noise, and then the writing in the air faded away, forming a new sentence.

_Advance by two stones._

"Well that's easy enough," said Fred, and he hopped forwards.

_Player Two, please begin._

This time George stepped forwards. He was told to stay put where he was. Grumbling a little about how boring his turn was, he dug his hands into his pockets and stayed standing on his stone. Finally, it was Lee's turn. Lee, unfortunately, was told to move backwards by one pace, so looking crestfallen, he jumped back onto the bank and sent his most ferocious glare in the direction of the twins, neither of whom could resist smirking at him.

The room must have known that there were only three players, for then it was Fred's go again. He hurled himself onto the next stone and waited for the writing to unfurl above him.

_Player One, it is time for a challenge._

"Awesome!" breathed George from a couple of stepping stones back. Fred's stomach fizzed in excitement.

_To move forwards, you must pass this barrier. You have twenty seconds._

As soon as the message appeared, a high stone wall materialised in front of Fred, blocking off the front of his stone.

"Well this shouldn't be too hard," he said, raising an eyebrow in a slightly cocky manner.

"We spent most of our childhood climbing walls and things," George explained to Lee.

Fred took a step back and stared at the wall appraisingly for about half a second. He drew in a deep breath and then ran forwards, throwing himself as far into the air as he could. He just managed to hook his hands over the top of the wall, and he instantly began to scrabble at the stone with his feet, looking for a crevice to push himself up.

However, he soon had a shock; somehow, the stone was as slippery as ice – and just as cold. With a yelp of surprise, Fred lost his grip on the wall and landed in a heap on the stone floor.

"Seventeen seconds," said George, his eyes fixed to his watch.

"Maybe we need to use magic," muttered Fred.

He began to wrack his brains for a suitable spell. He bit his lip, remembering hearing his father use one particular spell to blast open a rusty door to the shed when they were younger. Arthur had been given a sound scolding by his wife afterwards, but the spell had been forever embedded in the minds of the twins, after causing an explosion that destroyed not only the shed, but the majority of the garden as well.

"Reducto," Fred cried, pointing his wand at the wall.

There was a loud bang, and smoke and dust burst up into the air, obscuring Fred's view of the wall. He turned back towards George and Lee, grinning from ear to ear, but George just shook his head, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Fred spun to face the wall again, and saw, to his horror, that it was still standing, tall and foreboding as ever, with not one dent.

"Thirteen seconds."

"Fred, I have an idea," said Lee firmly from behind. "Stand still."

"What are you going to-"

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

A tugging sensation suddenly began to pull at Fred's body, just below his armpits and his knees. He felt himself being lifted slowly off the ground.

"Lee, what the _hell _are you doing?" he cried, his voice slightly panicky.

"Relax, you're in safe hands. I was the first one in our class to lift a feather, remember?"

"You cheated!"

There was a slight pause, and then-

"Shut up. I need total concentration."

That, Fred decided, was not particularly comforting. He had a nasty feeling that he was going to be dropped either onto stone or into the water from a great height, in just a few seconds. But unfortunately, he didn't have much time to argue with his friend, as George had just announced that there were only eight seconds left for Fred to get over the wall.

He heaved a sigh and let his head drop back to stare up at the ceiling, which was drawing ever closer. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, as such; Fred felt rather like he was sitting on an invisible cushion in the air, with just his legs dangling over the edge. No, the height didn't worry him in the slightest – the part that Fred was nervous about was what the ground might feel like if he hit it a little earlier than planned...

"All right, you're going over the top," said Lee.

"Five seconds," George added.

"Can you see the next stepping stone?"

Fred looked down. He was almost dizzyingly high up, but there, directly below him, lay the stone that he was aiming for.

"Yes, it's right down here!"

"Three seconds."

"I'm putting you down now."

Fred began to sink down through the air.

"One second-"

And he landed. The wall behind him disintegrated into nothingness, and Fred let out a sigh of relief, sinking down onto the mercifully firm ground, his knees shaking slightly (though he wouldn't have admitted to it even under the Cruciatus Curse).

"I take it back, Lee, your Charms work is exceptional."

"Brilliant," put in George.

"Life-saving."

"Challenge-saving."

"I do my best," said Lee modestly, flicking back one of his dreadlocks complacently.

Soon, a new message appeared in the air, telling George that it was his turn. Fred settled back on his stepping stone, rather looking forward to seeing his brother fight his way through a challenge. However, George was just told to move forwards by three places, and after a few leaps he drew level with Fred.

"I hope you will accept my warmest welcomes to Stone Five," said Fred formally, rising to shake George's hand. "I trust you will enjoy your stay?"

"Why thank you, Mr Weasley. I'm sure I shall, providing I'm not eaten by a ravenous monster."

"My turn now, guys!" interrupted Lee. "Maybe I can actually move somewhere this time."

Fred decided Lee's luck had to be jinxed, because the instant that Lee stepped onto the first stone, he was ordered back to the bank.

"What is it with this game?" exclaimed Lee, spreading his hands out in indignation.

"Better luck next time," said George, just managing to turn his snort of laughter into a cough.

Lee was not fooled. "Choking on something? Want me to remove it for you?" He twirled his wand menacingly.

"Quite all right, thanks, mate!" George succeeded in keeping himself collected just long enough to say, "Anyway, you'd have to reach this stone first," then he collapsed into laughter.

"Just hilarious. Really witty."

"Shut up, you two, I'm trying to concentrate," said Fred, preparing to take his next jump.

"Quite the Percy today, aren't you?" commented George with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Shhh, you!" said Fred good-naturedly. He hopped onto the next stone and looked into the air expectantly. "Awesome, move forwards one!"

Fred made the jump easily and looked back at George, who moved onto the next stone and waited to be told what to do. George's next turn turned out to be another challenge.

"Water is the home to many different magical creatures," he read out. "You are about to meet one of them."

George looked around for a few seconds, his wand raised and at the ready. There was no sign of anything, except the smooth sheet of water around them. George glanced up at Fred, his eyebrows creased in confusion.

Fred shrugged. "Come on, just ignore it and-"

"George, careful!"

George instantly spun towards the source of Lee's yell, but the split second it took him to react was too long. There was a great splash from behind him, and, spraying water around the chamber, a slimy creature burst from the surface of the water, grabbing George around the neck and clinging to his back.

George gasped and tried to beat the beast off of him, but its arms were locked tightly around him and it wouldn't be lodged. It was sludge-green and covered with spiky fins. Its limbs were spindly but strong, complete with webbed toes and knobbly fingers, and it was letting out an inane chattering noise, which echoed off the chamber walls and filled the air around them.

"What is it?" yelled George.

"I don't know, but Snape's starting to look pretty handsome by comparison!" Fred shouted back.

George twisted his head around, trying to get a better view of the creature. This turned out to be a mistake, as it opened its sucker-like mouth and promptly began to suck his nose.

"Argh!" George gave up trying to beat off the creature physically and snatched up his wand, pointing it back over his shoulder. "Petrificus Totalus!"

A jet of red shot from George's wand, hitting the creature directly in the side. Luckily for George, this seemed to do the trick; his nose was released, the beast's skinny arms snapped back to its side and it fell to the floor, staring up at him reproachfully with protuberant, slightly glassy eyes. George shuddered, and wiped the slime from his face with his grimy sleeve, looking faintly disgusted. He spared one last glance for the creature, and then kicked it back into the water with a satisfying 'thwack'.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Fred seemed to be nearing the end of the game. There were only a few more stepping stones left, and then he'd be able to reach the door out. George was one step behind him, and Lee was… well, Lee was still on the bank. Every single time he attempted to progress forwards, he was just told to move backwards by one space. Fred was beginning to think that the room was actively trying to keep his friend from finishing the Slytherin challenge, but he still held hopes that they'd find a way past the block eventually.<p>

However, it had in no way been easy to reach even this point; both of the twins had faced challenges of varying difficulty throughout the game, and quite honestly, Fred couldn't wait to get through the door. True to the room's words, the tasks had been becoming gradually harder; his latest one had been another creature, but this time it came complete with a rather large set of sharp teeth, which it had embedded immediately in Fred's robes. It was only when Fred had discovered that it was sensitive to light that he'd managed to shake it off and kick it back into the water, aided by a handy Lumos charm. He was panting, his robes were ripped, and the creature had given him a couple of long scratches down one leg – but it was nothing to George's latest challenge.

When George had stepped onto another stepping stone one turn ago, he'd been immediately encased in a glass cube. Almost before George could get his bearings, water had started to trickle in from the sides of the container, slowly filling it up. George had beaten the sides, firing as many spells as he could think of at the glass, but to no avail. Soon, the water had started to drip into George's mouth, and it was only when Fred had really begun to panic, watching his twin splutter and gasp for breath, that he thought to cast another Reducto spell from the outside of the container. Thankfully, this had done the trick, and George had spilled out onto the stone floor on a wave of water, coughing violently but grinning all the same.

And now it was Fred's turn once more. He jumped to the next stone, and his heart sank down towards his kidneys as he read the words:

_Player One, it is time for another challenge._

"Brilliant, just brilliant," muttered Fred.

His fingertips tingling with adrenalin, he looked around at the still surface of the water, wondering if something was about to spring up at him from its murky depths. All of a sudden, just as Fred was peering at a rather suspicious-looking ripple to his left, smoke erupted from the stone in front of him, and a shadowy figure billowed out towards him, trailing dust and ashes behind its long, charcoal-grey robes. It was ghost-like, almost as though it was made out of hovering smoke.

"I challenge you to a duel, scurvy cur!" it bellowed, its voice booming around the chamber walls.

"What the-?"

"Stupefy!"

A jet of red light burst from the figure's wand. Fred ducked to the side, his heart pounding in his chest. It was probably insane, but he was actually rather enjoying this challenge, or at least the start of it.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he cried.

"Protego."

Fred was forced to dodge away from his own rebounding petrifying spell, giving the dust figure time to strike again, this time with a leg-locking jinx. The two continued their duel for a good few minutes, ducking and weaving around each other, both firing off hexes and jinxes, but neither getting in a direct hit. But then, as Fred was scrambling back to his feet from where he'd bobbed down to avoid a spell, the shadowy wizard cast yet another spell, too quickly for Fred to react.

"Rictusempra!"

Fred gasped as he was struck by the tickling charm, and in moments he was doubled over, wheezing as he tried to draw in breath while he howled with laughter. Yes, he liked a good laugh as much as anyone, but this was just ridiculous – he was practically rolling on the floor! But then, without warning, the tickling sensation abruptly left him. Fred just about had time to wonder why, when it became obvious – the figure was casting another spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

Fred felt his wand jerk away from his fingers. He made a grab for it as it sailed through the air towards the figure, but he missed, and his wand was snatched up in one dusty hand.

_Great. No wand; just my luck_, thought Fred. _Oh well, only one thing for it. Here goes!_

Fred plucked up all his courage, took a deep breath and turned to face the figure, which was now brandishing both wands in his direction and making a raspy chuckling sound.

"I didn't want to sink this low," Fred told it, shaking his head sadly, "but you leave me no choice."

The figure's face twisted into a look of confusion, and before it had time to take any action, Fred drew his foot back and kicked it soundly in the crotch. For something that looked like it was made primarily of dust and shadows, it had a surprisingly solid feel to it. It let out an 'oomph' sound, and then promptly disintegrated, Fred's wand falling from its hand to land on the stone with a clatter. Fred scooped it up, grinning to himself, and turned to bow at George and Lee, who had burst into spontaneous applause.

"That, mate, was a stroke of genius!" George was yelling.

"Truly inspired," put in Lee.

Fred gave them what he thought was a very modest wave, and then jumped onto the next stone. He looked up towards the bank, and his stomach gave an excited flip. He suddenly realised, he was on the last stone! On his next go, he would finish the challenge! Now all he had to do was wait.

The rest of that round passed without interest – George landed on a safe spot, and Lee was sent back to the beginning yet again. Fred took a step forwards, feeling his foot connect with solid earth once more. He let out a whoop of victory, and started preparing to do a victory dance, when another message appeared in shimmering red letters above him. There, clearly written, were the words:

_Player One, move backwards by twenty-six stones._

And, in Fred's opinion, rather patronisingly added:

_Oh dear…_

"_What_?" hissed Fred. "What's going on?"

"Blimey, that's not fair," said George, shooting his twin a sympathetic glance.

Fred looked back, counting the stones across the lake. Conveniently enough, twenty-six steps took him right the way back to the original bank, on the other side of the room, where Lee was standing waiting.

"I can't believe this," Fred muttered.

Feeling slightly numb, he glanced back at the Hufflepuff door one last time, and then began to jump back to the beginning of the challenge, wincing at George as he passed him.

"Welcome back to beginning, mate," said Lee bitterly, when Fred arrived.

"It's a dream come true," said Fred, with a half smile.

He stared over at the Hufflepuff door. It now seemed to be way off in the distance, when just a minute ago, it had been tantalisingly close – near enough to touch, if he'd ever got the chance. He was feeling pretty disheartened, and more than a little frustrated. He was tired, sweaty, bruised and battered, and the end was still out of his grasp.

"I'm starting to think this is impossible," George called over, ignoring the message that had just flashed up, telling him it was his turn to move.

"Me too," Lee said tiredly, nodding his head.

"But what can we do?" asked Fred.

George bit his lip. "This is the Slytherin challenge, right?"

"And so we need to have Slytherin qualities!" said Fred slowly, comprehension dawning. "What are Slytherins like?"

"Evil," replied George promptly.

"Ha, ha. Seriously though."

George considered for a moment. "Cunning, I suppose. They'll do more or less anything to get their own way. Use their intuition." He paused, then added as an afterthought, "God, I hate speaking positively about those snakes…"

Lee squared his shoulders, looking around the room. "I think, men, that we may have to bend the rules a little."

"Excellent!" Fred's eyes lit up, sparkling with their usual excitement once again. "Breaking rules is what we do best."

For a minute the three First Years stood in silence, examining the Slytherin room with eyes well-practised in spotting escape routes. Fred's mind was buzzing. How would they get out? He didn't think he could just make a run for it – during his second last challenge, he'd tried simply to leap to the next stone and escape the creature attacking him, but he'd found his path blocked by an invisible wall. There was no chance that they could break through and make a dash for the door. They would have to find another way. He let his eyes rove over the water and towards the wall at the side of the chamber, and suddenly, he saw it. He pointed wildly to the wall, his breath catching in his throat with excitement.

"There's a ledge right the way along the wall at the side!" he said feverishly. "If we can get to that, we can climb across to the door."

George and Lee's eyes followed his pointed finger to the ledge.

"You're right!" grinned George. "But how do we get to it?"

"I think," said Lee, "we're going to have to go through the water.

As one, the three of them lowered their eyes towards the dark green lake. They knew for sure that a number of dangerous creatures were biding their time beneath the surface, and they could only guess at what else lay in wait for them.

"It's our only chance," said Fred eventually. "Let's go one by one."

"Who's going to start?"

There was a long, heavy silence.

"I will," said Lee, at last. He clapped his hands together. "I haven't tried this yet!"

"We'll have your back," said the twins together.

They both raised their wands, pointing them at the edge of the water. Lee shot them each one last grin, and then he carefully made his way to the lip of the lake.

"Here goes nothing," he said quietly, and then he leapt straight into the water, as far out as he could manage.

Instantly, creatures began to snap at him. Lee yelped, and began splashing towards the wall as fast as he could. Fred and George fired off stunning spells (and whatever else they could think of) as rapidly as they could while making sure not to hit their friend. There was a worrying moment when something grabbed Lee's hair and started trying to pull him under the water, but George got whatever the creature was from the side, with a nicely-placed jinx, and it fell back into the water.

It took a few minutes, but Lee eventually made it to the side. He hauled himself out of the water and onto the ledge, clinging to the wall and panting, with water dripping down his face and off his clothes. Immediately, the creatures slipped away from him and back beneath the water, much to the relief of the trio of Gryffindors, leaving Lee free. Lee took a moment to catch his breath, and then began to edge along the ridge on the wall, jamming his fingers into each nook and cranny he could find. Fred was on tenterhooks the entire time, his wand poised and at the ready, but Lee made it to the far bank unscathed.

He dropped onto the ground by the door, looking around warily. A few seconds passed in tense silence, but when nothing attacked Lee, the three of the them relaxed, and Lee sank down onto the floor, breathing heavily and looking immensely relieved.

Next was George. He didn't have far to go, on account of the fact that he was already on a stepping stone near to the wall, and Fred and Lee easily managed to defend him as he swam to the ridge. Soon, George had arrived at the door too, sopping wet but smiling, and the only one left to cross the chamber – again – was Fred.

Fred stared down into the lake, looking at it rather suspiciously. He didn't much fancy being eaten alive by evil, little, water-dwelling creatures… but he didn't have much choice in the matter. He took a breath and then, before he could lose his nerve, threw himself forwards, crashing into the lake with a great splash. The cold of the water hit him immediately, and his body was frozen in shock for a second. But then he felt long, thin fingers, grasping at his ankle, and he kicked out hard, shaking himself into action.

"Go, go, go!" yelled George from the side.

A jet of light streaked past Fred's shoulder, and he saw something green and scaly fall away, out of the corner of his eye. This spurred him on, and he began to kick hard, churning through the lake towards the wall, and its promise of safety.

It was complete chaos. Something butted his stomach from beneath him, and Fred thrashed around wildly, knocking it away with his hand. There was a squeal from his left, and Fred saw yet another creature struck down by either George or Lee. He swam on, concentrating only on not being dragged beneath the water by a slimy hand, or beaten around the head with a tail or fin, and then suddenly, just in front of him, there was the wall. With a yell of relief, Fred pulled himself up onto the ledge, and simply clung there for a second, allowing himself to calm down and regain his rational thought.

He glanced to his right; there were George and Lee, beckoning encouragingly. Fred carefully began to ease himself along the wall, revelling in the cool, dry air and the absence of creatures clutching at his robes and ankles. Before he knew it, he'd reached the end of the ledge, and he jumped down onto the bank. George let out a loud cheer, and Fred couldn't help but jump up and down happily.

"We've done it!" he yelled, delight bubbling up in his stomach, and for a moment, he had not a care in the world.

Then, almost as if they'd read each other's minds, the three boys turned where they stood to face the badger door.

"Ready?" said Fred.

"Ready," echoed George and Lee.

Lee stepped forwards and pushed the door open.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: To the guest who asked about the Triwizard Tournament – To enter your name in the Goblet of Fire, you had to be seventeen, but not necessarily in Seventh Year. Fred and George's birthday is 1<strong>**st**** April, so they were still sixteen when they attempted to put their names in the goblet. I'm pretty sure Cedric was a Sixth Year then too, but he must have had his birthday earlier in the year. :P**

**Everyone – I'm so, so sorry about the long gap! At least this one's quite a long chapter. I've been on holiday, and… I've also been working on an exciting new project. *Self-promotion alert, feel free to ignore* I've been taking part in a collaboration of seven authors, with the account name 'The Seven Horcruxes' (I'm Goblet)! We're writing a trilogy that aims to explore different clichés in fanfiction and put our own original spin on them. Our first story is about time travel, and we've got some exciting stuff planned! So if anyone is interested, it's called 'The Synthesis Trilogy Book One: Salvific' and we've got ten chapters out so far. Sorry about the blatant advertisement in my author's note – couldn't resist! :P**

**I will now leave you in peace. Sorry about my ramblings, and thanks for reading them, haha!**


	23. The Badger

**Disclaimer: I have no rights to this series, I am not JK Rowling, I make no money from fanfiction, yada, yada, yada. You know the score. :P**

* * *

><p>Fred, George and Lee stood stock still, gaping at the room – that is, if it could even be referred to as a room – that they had just entered. They felt as though they had stepped straight through the door and, instead of landing in another chamber, had walked into the middle of an idyllic landscape. The door had disappeared behind them, and they were now standing on a sweeping, sandy dune, which was bordered by white cliffs made up of some kind of chalky substance. Off to their left, the cliffs dropped into a deep canyon, and above them was a deep blue sky.<p>

"I thought we were underground," said Fred eventually, shading his eyes as he peered up at the bright sky.

"I suppose the ceiling's like the Great Hall," said Lee, "enchanted to look like we're outside."

"Oh, OK. But what are we supposed to be doing here? This doesn't look particularly dangerous..."

"I'm sure something will show up," said George.

He knelt down, sifting the sand through his fingers. It was the soft, fine type of sand that tickles between your toes as you walk through it, and it had been warmed by the sun beating down on it. If they weren't in the middle of a heroic challenge, he'd have a good mind to settle down here for the foreseeable future. But unfortunately, they still had their task to get through. George gazed around the dune; surely it was only a matter of time before another terrifying monster turned up for them to battle?

However, ten minutes later, the dune was still empty and the three First Years were beginning to get rather bored. They'd made sand angels, or at least attempted to (they'd only succeeded in creating three dips in the sand); they'd had a sand fight, revelling in the fact that their parents weren't there to tell them off for it; and they'd passed the stage where the heat was a nice change from the normal English drizzle they were used to, and were now beginning to get very hot in their thick robes. What's more, George had sand matted into his hair after lying on the ground for so long, and it was making his head itchy.

Finally, he jumped up, sand billowing off his clothes. "That's it! If this challenge isn't going to find us, let's go and find it."

"Agreed." Fred nodded fervently. "Right, where do we look?"

George looked around. "I don't know… Where's the next door? We could start there."

The three of them stared around the dune for a few seconds.

"Uh, guys?" said Lee tentatively. "I think that finding the door might _be_ the challenge."

Fred grinned. "Well, that can't be too hard. Blimey, everyone always says Hufflepuffs are a load of duffers, but I didn't think it would be this easy. Come on, let's get cracking."

"Race you to the cliffs!" called George, running off across the sand.

"You're on!" Fred launched himself after his brother, and was closely followed by Lee.

It didn't take long for them to reach the cliffs at the edge of the dune. George slowed to a halt, looking up at the craggy rocks above him. The rock face was almost dizzyingly high, and George had to shield his eyes from the artificial sun.

"Any sign of a door?" asked Lee, drawing level with George.

"No, I can't see anything."

George began to run his hands over the surface of the rock, probing the cracks for a hidden door or a secret trigger. Though a few small lumps of chalk broke away from the cliff face, crumbling down to the ground, George couldn't find anything useful. Meanwhile, Lee and Fred had begun to walk around the perimeter of the dune. Fred was trailing his fingers along the stone next to him, as Lee scanned the higher parts of the cliff for the elusive door.

George sighed. This place was massive; how were they supposed to find one door? It was like searching for a mouse in a pile of snuffboxes. Make that, snuffboxes enchanted by a class of slightly incompetent First Years. George pulled his wand from his pocket and waved it wildly around him.

"Alohomora!" He waited to hear the click of an unlocking door, but to no avail. "Damn it."

Perhaps Fred and Lee had had a breakthrough, George wondered, though it was doubtful. All the same, it had to be worth checking, so he ran back across the sand to catch up with his friends. It was beginning to annoy him how his feet sunk deeply into the dune every time he took a step…

"Any luck?" asked George, when he reached Fred and Lee.

"Nothing yet," said Fred. "Have you found anything?"

"No," said George gloomily.

"This is a stupid challenge! Nowhere in the Sorting Hat's song did it mention that Hufflepuffs were particularly good finders!"

Fred let out a huff and sat down in the sand. He dug a little hole with his hands and poked his head down, peering into the pit.

"Here, doory-door-door!" he called. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

There was a pause, as all three of them stared dully at Fred's pit, as if they hoped that they would somehow receive an answer.

"Nope, nothing," said Fred eventually.

"I suppose there's only one more place to try," said Lee, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep."

As one, they all stood and walked towards the chasm at the side of the dune.

"I always knew, deep down, that it would come to this." Fred sighed melodramatically.

George quickly joined in on the joke, placing his hand over his heart and gazing off into the distance.

"I had hoped we would find the door elsewhere," he said, "but alas, it was not to be."

"Oh, shut it, you two," said Lee. "The door could easily have been in the cliff!"

George put his hands on his hips. "Honestly, Lee-"

"-Ruining all our fun!" finished Fred.

The twins both pouted at Lee, but they were soon distracted from their argument as they reached the canyon. It was much wider than it had seemed from the middle of the dune, and it was very deep. George knelt down at the ridge of the abyss and poked his head over the edge. His toes tingled slightly with adrenalin as he saw the sheer drop beneath them. To reach the bottom of the canyon, they would have to climb down what looked like around one hundred feet of weather-beaten rock, with just the occasional gnarled tree sticking out to break a fall. George squinted; he could just make out a pool of icy blue water sparkling at the bottom. And beneath the surface, there was a door, its red and gold crest of a lion blurred by its covering of water.

"At least we've found the door," said Fred doubtfully.

"That's the spirit!" said Lee. "Now, how do we get down there?"

"We could try Wingardium Leviosa again, I suppose," suggested George.

Lee looked worriedly down into the depths of the canyon. "I don't know about you, but I don't think I could levitate either of you that far."

"Are you calling us _fat_?" Fred glared at Lee.

"I'll have you know we're in excellent shape," added George.

"Aren't you just hilarious?" Lee rolled his eyes. "But how _can_ we get down?"

"Well, we could just use this rope," Fred said with a shrug, picking up a length of rope that had been hidden from George's view behind a jutting rock.

George closed his eyes for a second. "Why, pray tell, did you neglect to mention this until now?"

Fred smirked. "Because it's so much more fun to annoy you two!"

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, Fred, George and Lee had a problem. None of them were very accomplished at using ropes to climb (Fred and George in particular were more used to just 'winging it') but one thing they were pretty sure of was that the rope ought to be tied firmly around something at the top of the canyon, unless the climber wanted to go hurtling straight down to the bottom, along with the rope, to their untimely demise. However, there were no handy trees on the dune that they could use as anchors. The most they had was the small rock that had been hiding the rope in the first place, and they weren't sure that that would be enough.<p>

George had just bent down to fasten the rope around the rock. He tied the tightest knot he knew, and then straightened up.

"Is that going to hold?" asked Lee.

"I don't know…" George gave the rope an experimental tug, and it slipped straight off the top of the rock. He winced. "That would be a no."

"Do you think we're meant to use our own bodies as weights?" said Lee. "Hufflepuffs are loyal, right? That would fit."

Fred bit his lip. "I suppose we could do that for the first person, with the other two as the anchor, but I don't think it would work after that… Even if one of the last two _did_ manage to support the other for long enough, they'd still be stuck at the top at the end with nobody to hold the rope."

"Of course." Lee sat down heavily on the rock. "Are you _sure_ this is Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw? This is beginning to feel like a bloody brainteaser!"

"I know what you mean!" said Fred.

George wandered over to the lip of the canyon again, taking a glance down. His eyes caught on one of the protruding trees, and the answer hit him.

"I've got it!" He pointed down at a tree, about ten feet below them. "If we can get down to that tree, we can tie the rope around it and climb down from there."

Fred and Lee joined him at the edge, looking down carefully.

"I think we can manage that," said Fred. He looked calculatingly at George and Lee. "I reckon I'm the lightest of the three of us."

"I told you I was taller than you," said George smugly.

"Oi, be quiet, you." Fred smirked at him. "Anyway, I didn't ever say you were _taller_, as such..."

George let out an indignant huff, but Fred ignored him and continued to speak.

"If you two keep a tight hold, you could lower me onto the tree trunk and then drop down the rope," he said.

"I suppose it's our only choice," said George. "Unless we want to live here forever, that is."

Lee looked around. "Do you see any food? Or water, for that matter?"

There was a pause, as the twins peered about the dune too.

"Well, I suppose we're decided then!" said Fred, the cheeriness in his tone sounding rather forced.

George handed the rope over to his twin, and Fred tied it securely around his waist. George and Lee wrapped the other end around their backs, and then twisted their hands into it. For safety, they both crouched down behind the rock, hoping that it would keep them from being pulled over the edge with Fred, if the worst came to the worst and he was too heavy for their muscles alone.

"We'll let the rope out gradually," Lee told Fred.

"OK. I'll let you know when I get to the tree."

"Good luck!" George clapped Fred on the shoulder.

Fred made his way slowly towards the canyon. He got down onto his hands and knees, and gradually lowered himself over the edge. As George saw the top of his head disappear, the rope became taut in his hands and he felt Fred's weight tugging on the line. Gradually, he and Lee reeled out more rope as Fred continued to climb, until they heard Fred's voice.

"OK, I'm on the tree. You can throw down the rope!"

George jumped up and ran over to the canyon to look down. Fred was grinning up at him from where he sat straddled on the tree trunk, the rope still tied around his waist. Fred held his hands out, and George and Lee, once they'd untangled themselves, threw down the rope to him. Fred chose a solid-looking branch and deftly tied the cord around it.

"All right, now you two can come on down."

This was when they realised they were faced with another problem. George and Lee glanced at each, down at Fred, at the rope and back to each other. Though the rope would allow all three boys to get from the tree to the ground with no trouble at all (they hoped), George and Lee were still stuck at the top of the canyon. No longer with a rope. It was the same problem as before, but on a smaller scale.

"Bloody hell," muttered Lee. "We just can't catch a break, can we?"

"I could try levitating you down to here," said Fred, but he didn't sound too keen on the idea.

"No thanks," said Lee. "I don't much feel like being dropped. Let's keep the levitation to a minimum, shall we?"

"Good idea. Now, what would a Hufflepuff do?"

George grimaced. "Something that requires a load of trust and loyalty, no doubt."

"I didn't slip once; I could have done it without the rope!" said Fred.

"Well, goody for you, but that doesn't help _us_, does it?"

"Shut up, George. What I'm trying to get at is, how would you feel about me giving you directions down?"

Actually, George felt quite reluctant about that idea, but it was the best they'd come up with so far.

"And we can keep Wingardium Leviosa as a last resort, for when you're plummeting towards your certain death!" Fred finished cheerfully.

"Thanks for that image, mate," said Lee with a wince.

* * *

><p>Soon, George was on his way down the cliff, and he was beginning to regret agreeing to the plan. He kept his fingers dug so tightly into the rock that it hurt, and he was rapidly losing faith in Fred's guidance skills.<p>

"Move your foot a bit to the left," Fred was saying. George did what he was told. "No, not that left, the other left!"

"THERE IS NO OTHER BLOODY LEFT! THERE IS ONLY ONE LEFT!"

"I meant the right. Calm down, George; there's no need to get so huffy about it..."

George ground his teeth in frustration and moved his foot to the right. His toe made contact with a small ledge, and George heaved a sigh of relief, letting his weight shift onto that foot.

"OK, you're right above the tree trunk. If you can just lower yourself down half a foot further, you'll be there."

Thank Merlin. George moved his hands down into a couple of dips in front of his chest and tensed his arms. Slowly, he let himself drop down, until his feet made contact with bark. A second later, he felt Fred grab him firmly under the armpits, and together they sank down onto the tree. Once he had recovered his breath, he turned to his twin. "'The other left?' Really?"

"You put me under pressure," said Fred, waving a hand airily. "Lee, are you ready?"

"After that pathetic display of direction-giving, I don't think I'll ever be ready," Lee told him.

"I'll take that as a yes! All right, there's a chink you can put your right foot in just beneath you..."

Despite his original misgivings, it didn't take long before Lee had joined the twins on the tree. Next, they turned their attention to getting to the ground.

"Right, so how do we do this?" said George.

Fred looked shrewdly at the rope. "The rope was made to help us, right?"

"I bloody well hope so, or else we've picked up a very long dead snake."

"Then it's probably been designed to get us down easily enough. This challenge is testing our loyalty and Hufflepuff-ness, not our climbing ability."

Fred untied the rope from around his middle, seating himself safely against a forked tree branch that poked up behind his back. Then, after making sure that the rope was still tied around its branch, he threw the line down to the ground. Sure enough, the end hung about six feet above the surface of the water. If one of them fell from the rock on their way down, they might be given a slightly painful jerk, but they would still be safely suspended above the bottom of the canyon, and they could easily drop into the water from that position.

"Excellent," said Fred, sounding satisfied. "We are no longer destined for certain death! Now, who wants to go first?"

After a few seconds of silence, Lee squared his shoulders and said, "I will."

He caught hold of the rope and pulled it back up to the tree where they were seated. Then he carefully attached himself to the end, wrapping it around his midriff several times for safety.

"We've got your back," said George, pulling out his wand.

"Wish me luck," said Lee, with a slight smile.

He grabbed hold of the wall and began to climb down. He was making fast progress; it seemed that there were plenty of hand and footholds. Still, Fred and George kept their wands trained on Lee as he climbed, just in case something decided to pop out of one of the convenient holes and attack him while his back was turned. Luckily, however, they seemed to have got past the worst of the challenge already, and Lee made his way down without event. Soon, the rope snapped taut, as Lee reached its limit. He let go of the wall and swung out until he was hanging above the pool. He fumbled with the knot around his waist for a minute, trying to untie himself, until he finally dropped into the water.

"It's not too bad down here!" he called up to the twins as he splashed his way over to the side of the pool. "And I can see the door!"

"Great!" said Fred. "Right, it's my turn!"

They quickly reeled up the rope again, and it wasn't long before Fred was on his way down. He had got about three quarters of the way to the bottom of the canyon, when his foot slipped. George heard him let out a small yelp of surprise and quickly stuck his head over the side of the tree. He watched wide-eyed as his twin clung to the rock by his fingers alone.

"Are you OK?" George shouted down.

"You know what?" said Fred. "I'm sick of this. I'm just going to drop from here."

George straightened up again and checked the knot around the branch. "Go for it!"

"Geronimo!" Fred yelled.

He flung himself off the side of the canyon, his arms spread out wide and a grin on his face. The branch he was attached to gave a lurch, and some leaves fluttered down through the air, but it held firm. Fred, laughing happily, waited until he stopped swinging from side to side and then unattached himself and let himself fall into the water to join Lee.

This left only George to climb down. Feeling rather well-practised at it by this point, he hauled up the rope and knotted it around himself. He swung his legs down over the branch, and was just reaching towards the wall with one hand, when all of a sudden-

_CRACK!_

Adrenalin shooting through his body, George launched himself upwards. He managed to grab onto the tree trunk with his left hand, his weight falling painfully onto the one shoulder, just in time to watch the branch, complete with rope, break off and sail down through the air. He felt sick to the stomach. What was he going to do now? He supposed he was going to have to climb down with no safety line... But what would happen if he fell? George sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

"Just hang on, mate!" shouted Fred from below.

"I'm trying!"

George scrabbled at the tree, trying to get a firmer grip, but he was being dragged down by the weight of the branch, which was still hanging off of him. He clung to the trunk for one more second, but then his fingers, slicked with sweat, slipped off.

"GEORGE!" called Fred.

But it was too late.

George was plummeting through the air. Wind whistled past his ears as he fell, stinging his cheeks and his eyes. He looked down towards Fred and Lee's shocked faces, and the rapidly approaching water. _It's too shallow_, he thought desperately. _It's too late; __I'm going to hit the bottom._ He squeezed his eyes shut, readying himself for the impact and hoping he wouldn't be hurt too badly (or worse), when he heard Fred's voice.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

And then suddenly, George's fall had slowed to a halt. His toes just touched the cool water, dragging through the surface, and then he began to rise gently up into the air again, his whole body weightless, as if supported on an invisible cushion. Relief flooded through him, and he finally opened his eyes to look down at his friends, breathing deeply. Fred's wand was fixed on him, holding him up as high as the power of Fred's spell would allow. Once he had seen that George was safe, Fred lowered his wand, and George slowly sank down into the water.

"Merlin, George, you terrified me," said Fred weakly, slinging an arm around George's shoulders.

"Terrified myself too," said George, with a slight smile.

"If you ever do anything like that again, I will put a very painful end to your life," growled Lee.

"Wouldn't that be a bit counter-productive?"

"I don't care."

"Seriously though, thank you," George continued sincerely, turning back to Fred. "I reckon you just saved my life. Kept me from a lot of pain at the very least!"

"Thank Flitwick! That spell has saved us a lot of trouble!" Fred laughed. "I could have sworn I checked that branch though! I was certain that it was strong enough to hold us."

"So was I," said Lee. "I think it was intentional, to make sure that we'd work together."

Fred shook his fist at the sky. "Damn you, Helga Hufflepuff! I thought you were meant to be the nice one!"

George laughed and looked down at the lion door, which was at the bottom of the pool. "So, Gryffindor next? That one should be all right for us, don't you think?"

"Yep!" said Lee. "Right then, shall we wrap up this little chat and move on? I'm getting tired of standing up to my chin in water."

With that, he bobbed down beneath the water and yanked the door handle upwards. Suddenly, all the water began to twist downwards into a whirlpool. It cascaded through the open door, bringing Fred, George and Lee down with it. George was sucked through the hole, and was immediately met by a sensation that was beginning to feel horribly familiar to him.

He was falling.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm not a climber - this all came off the top of my head, so it's probably total nonsense. Sorry! Haha, drama like this is fun to write though! By the way, the next chapter is actually already written, so this time I can promise you with certainty that you won't have long to wait! And for an added bonus, it's about twice the length of most of my chapters. I just need to proof-read it and tweak it a bit in a few places to make sure it flows on nicely from here. I reckon the longest that will take is a couple of days, so see you then! :D<strong>


	24. The Lion

**Disclaimer: Must I tell you yet again that I am not JK Rowling?**

* * *

><p>Fred was falling. Falling, falling, falling until he started to think he was never going to stop. He wondered vaguely if this was the next challenge – to somehow escape from a bottomless pit – when he felt his fall begin to slow. As if the air was cushioning his body, he came to a stop, hovering a few feet above the ground. He had just decided that he was quite comfortable hanging in mid-air, and might stay there for a few minutes, when he was abruptly dropped the rest of the way to land with a muffled thump.<p>

_So much for that idea_, he thought to himself, as he groaned and began to pick himself up off the stone floor.

Fred straightened up, ignoring the slight ache in his legs after the landing, and rubbed his head. He looked around curiously; he seemed to be in a dark, unlit chamber. But most worryingly, he appeared to be alone.

"George? Lee?" Fred called.

There was no reply, except for the sound of his own voice echoing back to him off the walls. He blinked several times until his eyes became used to the darkness and looked around urgently for his friends, turning his head so fast that his neck clicked. His stomach twisted in panic when he saw no one. Had he somehow been separated from them? How would he find them? How would _they_ find _him_?

_Calm down, Fred_, he told himself sternly, taking a deep breath. _Just carry on – they'll be there somewhere. Calm down.  
><em>

There was only one thing in front of him – a door. He quickly checked it for a house crest, but there was nothing there. That was hardly a surprise, since in his humble opinion, surviving an empty room didn't exactly qualify as extreme bravery. Whatever he was going to have to face for the Gryffindor challenge was obviously through the door. Fred shrugged, and pulled it open. At the sight that met him, his stomach plummeted and he stumbled on the spot, swaying slightly.

He screamed.

* * *

><p>Lee was falling through the air, his arms windmilling around him. And then, very suddenly, he wasn't falling any more, as he landed in something that felt like a soft heap of grass cuttings. He stood up, dusting himself down, and discovered that he had indeed fallen into a thick mound of plants. He looked around him and saw that he was standing in some kind of field. He was in another landscape - the founders seemed to be quite fond of them... It even had a couple of bushes, and it was complete with a sun shining down on him that, again, had to have been created by magic.<p>

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have a Fred or a George. That was slightly inconvenient.

"Oi, are you two there?" Lee shouted, just to check.

If the silence he received in reply was any indication of their presence (or lack of), they were nowhere to be found.

_Great. This bloody challenge has gone and separated us. Just great. Typical_, Lee thought to himself. _What's it going to throw at me now anyway?_

Lee climbed down off the pile of greenery and began to walk over the field, deciding that he'd just have to continue with the task on his own and hope he met up with the twins at some point along the way. As he went, he looked suspiciously around the field for some kind of trap; if this was the Gryffindor area, he was pretty sure that his challenge would be more frightening than stepping around patches of daisies. All the same, he carefully avoided the flowers, just in case they were going to suddenly shoot arrows at him, sprout poisonous tentacles, or do something equally monstrous.

Suddenly, as he stepped over a dandelion, a plain wooden door appeared directly in front of his head. Raising his eyebrows, Lee did the natural thing and opened it. At once, he recoiled, wishing he had stayed firmly on the other side of the door, as he was faced with a scene worthy of his darkest nightmares. It most definitely wasn't a field.

* * *

><p>George was falling, the wind pounding against his ears. His forehead was creased into one of his most ferocious glares. He was getting <em>bloody <em>sick of falling, and yet that was practically all he'd done for the past couple of challenges! All of a sudden, he hit freezing cold water with a splash. (Water - another common theme... A bit of originality would be nice, just once in a while!) George's body plunged a couple of metres into the icy water, and then he began to struggle upwards until he finally surfaced, gasping for air. He pulled himself out of what appeared to be an underground lake and rolled out onto a hard, stone floor. He shivered, feeling his clothes stick to him, now even more soaked than they had been before. He lay flat on his back for a few minutes, recovering his breath.

"Everyone OK?" he said eventually, expecting the other two have clambered out of the lake by now.

He heard nothing but the washing of the water against stone. George rolled over and pulled himself onto his elbows, peering around the room.

"Where are you, Fred?" he called. "Lee? If this is your idea of a joke..."

His eyes flicked over the room, until they settled on... the lake. Instantly, dread filled his body, and he leapt to his feet, spraying water droplets around him. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered, "Lumos", shining the light from the wand-tip over the lake's surface. He couldn't see any dark forms lying at the bottom, which he supposed was a good sign, but he could still feel his heart racing as his throat tightened with fear. He dipped his head into the lake, blinking and trying to see through the murky water, but it was no use. He couldn't see anything.

Finally, he sat down on the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to calm the fear that was seeping through his body.

_It's all right, it's all right, we've just got separated_, he thought firmly. _Even if they have… Even if they are… The best I can do is get to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do.  
><em>

That idea pushed him on; he refused to let himself believe that Fred and Lee were… He couldn't even think it. George rose slowly and walked to the edge of the chamber, where there stood a plain door. His teeth were still chattering from the cold of being drenched in water again, but he ignored it. He opened the door, took one look inside, and felt his stomach drop what felt like about fifty feet.

"Merlin."

* * *

><p>Fred felt as though his heart had stopped beating. This couldn't be real, it just couldn't. But then how could he explain the fact that there, in front of his very eyes, lay the obviously dead body of his twin brother?<p>

Fred shook his head. "No," he said, his voice coming out slightly croaky. "No."

He felt his feet moving, even without him asking them to, and he crossed the room as if in a dream, sinking down in front of the body. It was definitely George. He lay splayed out on the floor, blood trickling slowly from a cut on his head, and his eyes wide open and glassy. One of his hands was bent beneath his body at a strange angle, as if he'd fallen on it.

Fred reached out a trembling hand towards George. Searching desperately for some sign of life, his fingers scrabbled around his brother's wrist. George's skin was as cold as the stone beneath them. That was slightly strange, actually… Surely he wouldn't have lost his body heat already? But Fred wasn't really in the mood to puzzle anything over right now. Tears sprang up behind his eyes, but he blinked them away, refusing to believe there was a reason for them to fall. He tightened his hold, still determined to find a pulse, but he felt no blood beating beneath his fingers.

"No, George," he heard himself say. "Wake up."

He bent his head down, drawing in a deep breath and willing this to be some kind of trick. George couldn't be gone. Perhaps there would be a test of his Gryffindor chivalry now – something he would have to save George from – and then his twin would wake up and everything would be all right, and Fred would be able to breathe again, safe in the knowledge that he could be whole and happy once more.

Fred waited. No monsters came.

His vision blurred over again, and he blinked rapidly, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. He pulled his twin's head into his lap and ran his fingers through George's hair, beginning to cry in earnest now.

_It's not fair_, he thought. _We didn't sign up for this. It said 'a challenge', I didn't know… I thought…_

He wondered if he was meant to move on to the next room. What a cruel task… To force him to lose the person he cared about the most, and then abandon his body there. Was that bravery? He didn't really think it was. Or perhaps he had to show how noble he was by bringing the body with him. He stood up shakily, despite the tears still running down his cheeks, and dragged George's body over to the other side of the chamber, where there was another door. He rattled the handle, but it was locked. Pulling out his wand, he said, "Alohomora." Still the door refused to open. Fred bit his lip, looking into his twin's still face. He laid him down carefully on the floor and then tried the door again. In the back of his mind, he almost hoped it wouldn't open. Because if it did, he would be forced to leave George behind... But the door stayed shut, and Fred breathed a sigh of something close to relief.

Well, that was it, he supposed. He would just have to live here in this room – and if he starved to death, then so be it. Fred settled down on the floor again, stroking George's cheek and feeling the lump in the back of his throat tighten. He began to speculate about how their family would find out that they'd lost two of their sons. He supposed in the morning, the teachers would notice three Gryffindor students gone from their beds. Assuming Lee was dead too, that is. Hogwarts would call their parents and send out a search party, but nobody would find the missing First Years. Eventually, after months of labourious hunting, everyone would be forced to assume that Fred, George and Lee had been killed after setting out on their own for an adventure. It was close enough to the truth, really, but Fred was still sorry for the pain that his family would have to suffer.

At this point, Fred decided that his current chain of thoughts was too depressing, and he began to try to come up with something else. He couldn't, and before long he found himself hoping, yet again, that George was really still alive. He pulled out his wand and used it to prod George on the cheek. A couple of sparks flew out of the end of the wand, but George remained motionless and cold.

His pathetic attempt at magic reminded Fred vaguely of one event, aeons ago, when he and George had been about eight years old. They'd stolen Bill's wand when he was home from the holidays, and had started trying to levitate Percy's books with it. They'd failed miserably, and instead they had ended up re-colouring George's entire head to a luminous shade of purple. Remembering this made Fred feel instantly more sad. He sniffed, pressed his forehead into George's hair, and began to cry harder, still clutching his wand in one hand.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," he sobbed to himself, the image of George's purple but grinning face still dancing around in his mind.

And then something very strange happened. At the word 'ridiculous', Fred heard a faint pop. He jumped up in surprise and did a double take; George's face had gone just as purple as it had been that day when they'd stolen Bill's wand. It must have been accidental magic, caused by Fred's sudden onslaught of emotions. He let out a strangled laugh, out of pure shock.

Bang!

George was gone.

"What… the bloody… hell?" said Fred in a low voice, wiping his tears off of his cheeks with his sleeve.

He bent down, examining the piece of floor where George had been. And then, all of a sudden, it hit him. He remembered Charlie coming home from school one Easter and telling the whole family, in a very excited voice, how they had learnt about Boggarts in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Boggarts… Shape shifters that took on the appearance of your worst fear. Fred only remembered this piece of information because he'd been so riveted by Charlie's descriptions of the things that the Boggart had turned into – a humungous rat with glowing eyes, a collection of severed body bits that tried to attack a girl, and other similarly cool things.

And how did you get rid of a Boggart? You forced it to take on a funny shape, and then… you laughed.

It struck Fred now just how lucky he'd been. He must have stumbled upon the correct incantation because his words were being altered by his sobs. Actually, he felt slightly idiotic for crying over a Boggart, which was effectively just a figment of his own imagination, but at least it had done the trick. At that point, he realised that now that the Boggart was gone, he must have completed the Gryffindor task. He crossed the room and yanked on the handle of the door. Sure enough, this time it sprung open easily, and Fred smiled to himself.

As soon as he was through the door, it snapped shut behind him. Directly in front of him was a large stone arch, and another wooden doorway. On that one was the sign of the eagle. The Ravenclaw challenge was waiting behind that door. Fred looked back, and saw that he had in fact come through one of about ten entrances. He supposed there was a different Gryffindor challenge behind each one, and George and Lee were probably in two of them right now.

Fred crossed to a wall at the side of the little chamber and sank down against it to wait for the others. There was no way in hell he was leaving without George now. He drew up his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, and then sat back to await George and Lee's arrival. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, for the first time since he'd seen his twin's corpse.

* * *

><p>Lee turned and rattled the doorknob behind him, but his only possible exit had already sealed firmly. Even as he watched, the door itself began to fade out of existence, leaving only a stretch of blank wall behind it. He slumped resignedly, and then swivelled around slowly to face his fate.<p>

He was in a large, circular chamber surrounded by stone walls. The walls were completely bare, except for a few torches, which had sprung into life as soon as Lee had entered the room. There were several sturdy brick barriers sticking up from the ground at various points around the chamber, and by the light of the flickering flames, the main attraction of the challenge was just visible. In the centre of the floor was a huge metal cage, inside which a gigantic beast was pacing.

A manticore.

It looked exactly like the picture in Lee's Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, complete with lion body, human head and scorpion tail. At the moment, the manticore was facing away from Lee. He eyed its tail nervously, and without consciously deciding to, he backed away until he was pressed against the wall at the rear of the chamber. He could just see one of the manticore's poisonous stings at the end of its tail – it looked sharp and lethal and just ready to hit Lee in the chest if the manticore happened to shoot it now. Lee edged a little to his left, just in case.

As he did so, his shoulder knocked into one of the metal brackets holding a torch, and it made a loud clanging noise, which reverberated around the room. Lee winced, but the damage was already done. The manticore swung around to face him, and Lee had to bite back the urge to scream, run, hide, or just do anything to allow himself to avoid looking at the creature in front of him.

He hadn't realised it was possible for an animal to look at you with such loathing in its eyes. But evidently, the human features on its face made it feasible, because the manticore was glaring at Lee in obvious hatred, lowering its head as if it was about to charge. It opened its mouth and snarled, revealing three rows of sharp teeth, which were glistening with saliva.

_Well, I suppose I don't have to worry about the teeth anyway_, thought Lee, _Seeing as it will have already bloody murdered me by the time it gets round to using them!_

He gave a slightly hysterical laugh, his heart pounding wildly against his rib cage and his eyes flicking feverishly around the room.

_Nope. Keep calm, Lee_, he told himself. _It's in a cage. You just have to walk around it, it's just a test of bravery._

"Good manticore, nice manticore, just stay back," he said.

The manticore glared at him, but he took a deep breath and stepped forwards anyway. He kept his eyes fixed on the creature behind the metal bars, which was in turn still staring at Lee with unnervingly blue eyes. He continued to move forwards as slowly as he could, until he was right in front of the cage. He would have to pass next to it to get around to the door. Moving as carefully as he could, he stepped up to the corner of the cage. The manticore inside turned to face him, and Lee couldn't help but flinch as he felt its hot breath on his cheek. He moved his foot forwards again, holding his breath, but as he trod on the floor at the side of the cage, he heard a sudden scraping of metal.

He swung his head around as fast as he could towards the source of the sound, and felt his heart drop practically to the floor. The cage doors were moving slowly but purposefully open. Adrenalin took over, and Lee charged round the side of the cage, dropping to the floor behind one of the stone barriers.

The manticore strode out of its cage, its flanks rippling with muscles, and began to look around for Lee. He stayed huddled behind the barrier, holding his hands over his head (as if that would offer him any protection from one of those spikes). He could feel blood pounding behind his temples, and his breath was coming in sharp, ragged bursts. He had no idea where the manticore was; he couldn't see anything from his position behind the barrier and it was starting to make him nervous. For all he knew, the creature was right behind him and about to pounce...

Scrunching his face into a grimace, Lee decided to risk a glance over the top of the barrier. He poked his head up from his hiding place, but before he had a chance to bob back down again, the manticore's face swivelled towards him. It had spotted him. Lee pulled out his wand and without thinking, he shot a stunning spell at the manticore. He had forgotten what Professor Lyndon had told them about their skin being too tough to be affected by spells – the jet of red light from Lee's wand just bounced off the manticore's thick armour, and the beast looked, if anything, further incensed.

In a fluid motion, it bounded towards him around the side of the cage, letting out a hum that Hagrid would probably have described as sweet. With a shudder, Lee remembered what Lyndon had said in their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson about manticores 'crooning' to their victims as they ate their bodies. Lee vowed internally not to give this particular manticore a reason to perfect its singing voice.

He had no idea what to do or how to escape. He couldn't cast spells to help him. There was no way he was fast enough to reach the door before the manticore caught him, and he knew he couldn't fight it. There were no trees around that he could use to conveniently trap it. He decided his best option would be to stay behind the wall. They were obviously in the room for a reason, so he assumed they would deflect the manticore's sting.

"Why can't Fred and George be here?" he said quietly to himself, watching the creature stalk nearer. "Didn't they think manticores sounded cool?"

Suddenly, causing a jolt of adrenalin to shoot through Lee's veins, the manticore took a flying leap and landed on Lee's side of the barrier, directly behind him. Lee yelped with a combination of fear and shock, and hurled his body over the barrier again to the other side. He landed on the rough ground, scraping his elbows against the brick wall, and was slightly surprised to discover that he was still alive. The manticore looked highly annoyed at this turn of events, and it let out one of its stings. Lee ducked his head with lightening fast reflexes, and the sting hit the barrier in front of him. It exploded with a bang, and Lee could feel the echoing vibrations through the floor as the dust settled. He wasn't sure whether manticore stings always exploded like that when they hit their target, or whether there was some sort of spell put on the barriers to make it happen. Either way, he decided he didn't want to find out. He peeped up over the top of the barrier, just in time to see a new sting reform on the end of the manticore's tail. He swore quietly and bent down behind the barrier again, thinking hard.

After six more explosions, during which the manticore luckily stayed on the opposite side of the barrier to Lee, he came up with his plan. Based on his observations, it seemed to take around five seconds for each new sting to form, and then another three or four seconds for the manticore to take aim and fire. So that gave him about eight seconds between each explosion during which he could risk being uncovered. That didn't seem very long, but the brick barriers were arranged relatively closely to each other, and Lee reckoned he would have time to dive between them and get covered, if he moved quickly enough. He bit his lip uncertainly. It was a risky plan. But it was the only one he could think of.

Another explosion went off. Before the ringing had even faded from Lee's ears, he had flung himself over the brick wall. He tore across the chamber, a roar of anger from the manticore echoing behind him, and just had time to lunge behind another barrier before the explosion of the manticore's sting went off again with the force of a small bomb.

Lee wiped his forehead, taking a shaky breath. That was close. On the other hand, it had worked; he was one step closer to the door, and he was still alive. He allowed himself a couple of seconds to recover his breath, and then poised himself for the next explosion. The moment it came, he repeated what he had done before, throwing himself behind the next wall with just a fraction of a second to spare.

He continued to do this, occasionally having to dodge onto the other side of a barrier as the manticore cut in front of him, until he finally reached the last barrier. He crouched behind it, his body heaving from the effort of the chase, and readied himself to make a run for the door. However, instead of firing a sting at the wall and giving him time to escape, the manticore leapt in front of the barrier. Lee hurled himself behind it without wasting a second, and slammed into the floor as the manticore's sting hit brick and erupted.

He looked up. The manticore was standing in front of the exit from the chamber, blocking his way. It gave him what could only be described as a smirk, and began to pace backwards and forwards in front of the door, no longer bothering to shoot at the wall. Lee collapsed back, his head in his hands. He couldn't think what to do. He had thought he'd made it to the end of the task, but now he just could not get past the manticore. He was stuck.

Lee sat hunched behind the barrier for a while, thinking hard. He almost hoped that the manticore would get bored and try to catch Lee or take a shot at him. That was not the kind of thing that Lee would normally hope for, but desperate times called for desperate measures… After a couple more minutes, he realised that wasn't going to happen. Apparently, the manticore was intelligent enough to realise that it had a better chance of trapping Lee if it didn't move from its vigil, and stayed armed. Nothing seemed to break its concentration.

Actually, that was an idea. Perhaps he could distract it… Lee took out his wand, and began to shoot spells at the manticore in the vague hope that it would retaliate by releasing a sting. The manticore growled ferociously, unsheathing its many teeth again. Lee shivered, imagining them sinking into his flesh. Immediately, he redoubled his efforts to come up with an idea, and to do it now!

"All right," he mumbled, speaking aloud in an effort to calm himself down. "If shooting spells at the manticore doesn't work, let's try shooting them somewhere else to distract it."

He felt a bit better as he said this. He turned slightly to his left, making sure to keep the manticore in his peripheral vision, and held out his wand.

"Reducto," he whispered.

A jet of light shot from his wand tip and blasted a large chunk of stone out of the wall opposite Lee. The manticore raised its head and bellowed in rage, spinning to the source of the commotion. It leaned forwards on its front legs, looking as though it wanted to run to the wall, but it stayed put.

"Reducto," said Lee a second time.

Another piece of wall was blown away, and this time the manticore ran out of willpower. It tore away from the door towards the wall that Lee had been destroying, and Lee ran for the now-vacated door. The manticore heard him move and swung around again, letting off yet another sting. Lee's heart raced as he saw it, and he hit the floor, narrowly avoiding being hit by the poisonous spike, which sailed over the top of his head, only missing him by a hair's breadth.

As soon as the sting had passed over him, Lee pulled himself up, sprinting to the door. He yanked it open as fast as he could, practically falling through it in his haste to get away from the manticore. Once he was through the doorway, he whirled around to see the manticore getting ready to shoot a new sting that had just developed, and he slammed the door shut. He leant against it, breathing heavily, and wiped sweat from his forehead, enjoying the stability of the wood behind his back for a moment.

"You all right, mate?" came a voice from his side.

Lee spun around to its source, still on edge, despite the closed door behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was only Fred. He was resting against the wall, watching Lee through slightly red eyes. He looked as though he'd recently been crying, but Lee decided not to ask.

"If being chased by a bloody manticore counts as 'all right', then yes, why wouldn't I be?" said Lee, his voice becoming faster and higher, and beginning to sound a bit hysterical. He drew in a calming breath and said, "Anyway, how about you?"

"I'm fine," muttered Fred.

He didn't expand on this statement, and Lee didn't press him. Instead, the conversation turned to the manticore for a couple of minutes. Lee described the chase in vivid detail for Fred, embellishing only a few points, and Fred gave all the right 'oooh's and 'ahhh's, and began to look more cheerful.

"So Ravenclaw's next," commented Lee eventually, noticing the eagle on the door in front of them.

"Looks like it," said Fred, smiling. "Once George gets here, that is."

His eyes flitted nervously between the doors on the wall, as though he was trying to work out which room held his brother and whether or not he could break down the door to reach him.

Lee watched him for a moment, bemused, and said, "He'll be fine. He'll get here in a minute."

Fred didn't say anything, but he nodded and looked back down at the floor. Lee settled down by the wall next to his friend to wait, just happy for the time being to be safely away from the manticore.

* * *

><p>When George walked through the door, he noticed two things in very quick succession. The second thing that he noticed was that the light at the tip of his wand went out. The first thing he noticed... was the humungous pit of lava that lay in front of him, which appeared to be shooting fireballs out of its surface. Giant spikes of rock stuck up from the pit, and between them there was a very narrow, rickety bridge that stretched over the lava. That bridge appeared to be all that would separate George from his death if he tried to cross over it.<p>

George gulped and took a step forwards. The heat of the fiery lava hit him almost at once, which wasn't an entirely bad thing, as it dried George's clothes out pretty effectively. He looked down at his wand again, wondering why the light had gone out.

"Lumos," he said.

Nothing happened, and George closed his eyes in horror. He didn't need the light any more, of course, but if he couldn't use magic, then he wasn't sure what he'd do. He sat down on the ground, trying to work out how to complete the task. His eyes kept flicking over to the little bridge – he had a nagging feeling that all he was meant to do was to cross it. However, he kept racking his brains, hoping that inspiration would strike, and he'd manage to think of a safer way to reach the next door.

_This isn't the Ravenclaw task_, said an annoying little voice in the back of his head. _You're meant to show bravery, not think up a brilliant plan to get across the room without even coming near the lava. Anyway, without magic, what else can you do?_

"Shut up," George told his brain.

Unfortunately, even after sitting in the same place for five minutes, he still hadn't come up with his miraculous plan, and he was beginning to have a nasty suspicion that the voice in his head was right. He couldn't think of many things that would require more courage than crossing a half-broken bridge over a pit of lava (which he now decided he would name 'The Death Pit').

"Nice comforting name," he said to himself, with a snort.

He flicked his wand a few times, just to be sure, but to no avail – his magic simply wouldn't come. George sighed, and grudgingly tucked his wand into his pocket where it would be safe. He rose again from his position on the floor, and took a few more steps towards the Death Pit, faltering slightly as the heat became stronger. He squinted at the bridge, and realised that there were several long lengths of rope hanging from the ceiling above, which he hadn't noticed before. The tension in his stomach seemed to loosen a little, and George allowed himself to begin to hope that – just maybe, possibly – he could manage this task.

Unfortunately, he had reckoned without the fireballs. Just as he was thinking, another one shot up from the surface of the lava, sailing through the air and trailing sparks and fire behind it. It crossed right over the bridge, at about exactly the height that George's head would have been, had he been standing there. Instantly, George's insides resumed their tight and jumpy state. He swallowed nervously and immediately ground to a halt.

After a couple of minutes of watching, he became aware that there was a definite pattern to the fireballs' paths. They all crossed over the bridge, and all at head height. There didn't seem to be a particular timing to their appearances, but for each one there was a visible bubbling on the lava just where they were about to spring up. Thinking hard, George decided that he could manage to avoid them, as long as he could keep an eye on the lava and duck his head before the fireballs sprang up. It wasn't ideal, but what choice did he have?

George drew in a deep breath, panicky butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and made a run for the edge of the Death Pit. The bridge was set a little way up from ground level, leading from one rock to another, a good distance above the surface of the lava. He reached the rock where the bridge began and studied it for a moment. It was very high, and it looked smooth and shiny. He wasn't sure that he would be able to find a handhold. However, a little further up, a thick crack jutted into its surface. If George jumped, he thought he could grab hold of it.

_Here goes nothing_, he thought, and stepped back to take a run up.

As George reached the rock, he took a leap upwards and slammed the fingers of his right hand into the crack in the rock. He winced as his body's weight fell onto one arm, but he determinedly dug his hand into a secure position. He swung his left arm upwards, feeling for something to grip onto. He found a jut in the stone, and his fingers latched onto it immediately. He found himself beginning to miss even Fred's pitiful directions. Climbing was a lot harder on his own. Suddenly, as if to prove his point, George began to feel himself slip; his feet scrabbled desperately against the rock, but luckily, after a couple of seconds, they found a small ledge to rest on and George managed to fling himself further upwards.

He gradually pulled his body towards the top of the rock, feeling ever more grateful that his arms were strong after years of training to become a Quidditch Beater. As he drew closer to the top, the heat of the lava hit him still harder. Even the surface of the rock felt warm beneath his fingertips, and he had to resist the temptation to pull his hands away. Finally, George felt his hands reach the summit of the rock. He hooked his arms over the top and pulled his body onto the flat ledge, breathing heavily.

For a moment, he lay there, allowing himself to catch his breath. Once he had recovered, he sat up to take a closer look at the bridge.

George felt slightly queasy. The crossing looked even more old and battered than he had previously realised; even the weight of a twelve-year-old boy was likely to stretch its capabilities. Nevertheless, he had no choice.

George scrambled over the rock and placed one foot carefully onto the first wooden plank of the bridge. It gave a quiet creaking noise, but held firm. George sighed in relief and shifted his full body weight onto it, his eyes flicking around at the lava on either side of him as he waited for the signs of an approaching fireball. Slowly, he progressed forwards, until, just a few steps in, he noticed bubbling in the lava directly to his left.

His stomach seemed to turn a somersault, and he dropped to the ground, his heart beating wildly. The bit of bridge beneath him gave an ominous groan, and George could have sworn he felt it bend slightly. He screwed up his eyes, waiting with bated breath for the fall he was sure would come, but the plank did not break. The fireball flew over George, and he tucked his head down firmly, watching sparks spray out around him out of the corner of his eye. As soon as it had passed, he got to his feet again and started to move cautiously forwards.

"Slow and steady, George, slow and steady," he muttered to himself. "Just be _careful_ for once in your bloody life."

This cycle of walking and ducking continued for a good five minutes, until George was about half way across the bridge. At that point, he looked over to his right and was shocked to see the lava already fizzing and bubbling violently, very close to the bit of bridge where he was standing. In a blind panic, he flung himself to the ground, pulling his arms protectively over his head. However, he hadn't thought about what he was doing, and at that very moment, he heard a loud crack. With a jolt of nerves, George felt the section of wood beneath him give way. He felt himself begin to slip, and without a second thought, he threw his body upwards, grabbing hold of one of the ropes he'd noticed earlier, pulling himself towards the ceiling and clinging on for dear life.

He was just in time. The bit of plank that had fallen appeared to have set off a chain reaction, and the whole bridge collapsed in on itself. George watched, almost sobbing from relief, as it fell into the pool of lava and disappeared below the molten surface.

But he stayed still a moment too long. He felt a sudden stabbing pain in the back of his leg; he'd forgotten about the fireball, and it had sailed up just behind him, burning into his skin. George let out a cry and his eyes began to water at the searing sensation in his calf. His hands slipped and he almost fell off the rope, but he managed to clutch onto it again and gripped it tightly, shaking his head to rid himself of the haze of pain.

He looked down and, with a nasty jolt to his stomach, saw that the lava below him was already bubbling again. In a state of numb shock, he started to pull himself up the rope, ignoring the burning in his injured leg, until he was high enough to be safe from the flames. He clung to the rope as he watched the next fireball streak through the air below him, and he only let out the breath he was subconsciously holding when it had passed by him harmlessly.

However, he still had half of the Death Pit left to cross. The only way forwards now seemed to be the ropes. George looked calculatingly at the one just ahead of him. He stretched one arm forwards, but his fingertips were still a good few inches away from it.

"Nothing's ever easy, is it?" he growled.

He began pumping himself backwards and forwards, until his rope was swinging like a pendulum. At the end of its arch, George grabbed onto the next cord. His hands stung as he slid down it by a couple of inches, but he held on, and began to swing back and forth again. Soon he started to feel like he was Tarzan (some Muggle thing that his father had shown to him and Fred when they were little).

George reached the next rope more quickly, and began to get into a rhythm, until finally he seized the last rope in the chain. He climbed down to the end of the cord and waited for it stop moving. Once he was hanging motionless in midair, he released his grip and dropped the last few feet to the ground.

He landed heavily on the rock's surface; pain shot through his burnt leg, and he collapsed where he had landed, retching. After a moment, George lay down on his back and rested his head against the rock's surface, breathing hard. He allowed himself to lie in that position for a couple of minutes, his arms aching from the effort of pulling himself across the Death Pit, until the pain in his leg faded to a low throb. At that point, he pulled himself up onto his feet and scrambled down the side of the rock, relishing the coolness of its surface at the bottom, in contrast to the fiery Death Pit.

There, George discovered that he had reached the end of the chamber, where a simple door stood in front of him. His shoulders slumped in relief and a smile spread across his face. It was the end of the Gryffindor task – for the moment, he was safe, and he didn't have to fight his way past any more lava. Thank Merlin.

He stepped forwards and gave the door a push. It opened easily at his touch, and he stepped out into a small, rectangular chamber with stone walls. He just had time to register Fred and Lee sitting at the side of the room, when he seemed to be hit by a small cannonball, as Fred noticed him standing in the doorway and launched his whole body at George.

"George!" yelled Fred ecstatically.

George was almost knocked flying by the weight of his twin, but Fred grabbed him around the neck and held him upright, planting his face firmly in George's shoulder. George patted his brother nervously on the back and shot Lee a questioning look, but Lee just shrugged and sniggered at George, who was starting to feel like Fred had been attached to him with a permanent sticking charm. However, after a few more seconds, Fred withdrew, beaming at George happily.

"What did you have to get through?" he asked.

George groaned. "Basically, I was trapped in this fiery pit of doom, where magic didn't work. And I had to cross over it on a bridge, which fell apart when I'd got about half way."

He twisted around to display the blackened edges of his trousers and the red welt forming on the back of his leg. Fred gaped at him, looking rather impressed.

Lee piped up, "I had a manticore."

"Awesome!" grinned George.

"Not really…" said Lee, wincing at the memory.

"What did you get, Fred?" said George.

A slight look of pain flitted across Fred's face, but it was gone so quickly that nobody but George would ever have noticed it.

"It was nothing much," said Fred airily. He smirked. "Not for someone of my exceptional magical ability, at least."

George grinned and turned his attention to the door in front of them, and in particular the large crest of an eagle on the top.

"Ravenclaw?" he said, and the other two nodded. "Well, no time like the present."

He seized the door handle and twisted. They were onto the last house.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Long chapter this time, yay! I thought about splitting it, but I don't know where… I actually wrote it months ago, because the idea came to me long before any of the other challenges and I couldn't wait to write it! My thinking was basically that for Gryffindor, they would be facing a combination of emotional fear and physical danger between the three of them. Fred happened to get the emotional fear, and George and Lee both had variants on the latter. And of course, everything's always a lot more frightening when you're on your own… O_O<br>**

**I do actually feel really bad for giving Fred that Boggart though... :( By the way, I don't think that that would normally be his greatest fear, simply because the idea probably wouldn't really occur to him... But in this case, he was separated from George and Lee, so he was already pretty worried. And plus, there was the almost-fiasco of the Hufflepuff task just a few minutes beforehand. Just felt like explaining the inner workings of my mind there! Sorry for rambling at you! I shall leave you in peace, and go and work on the Ravenclaw task now. Bye! :P**


	25. The Eagle

**Disclaimer: I am running out of ways in which to say that I'm not JK Rowling… But I'm guessing you've all picked that up by now anyway. :P**

* * *

><p>Fred followed his brother through the doorway, making sure to keep as close to George's back as possible. You could never tell in this place whether a door was liable to snap shut in your face and force you to be separated from your twin… Again. Then again, Fred and George had been reunited now, and Fred wasn't one to dwell too hard on the past. He simply kept one eye fixed firmly on George and let himself devote the rest of his attention to the room they had just entered – the last challenge. Fred peered around eagerly, waiting with bated breath for something exciting to appear in front of them. What task were they going to be faced with now?<p>

Nothing happened.

"Well, this room's a bit of a disappointment, to be honest," said Lee eventually.

Fred narrowed his eyes, staring around suspiciously at the blank stone walls of the chamber. If he had learned only one thing so far from this challenge, it was not to be fooled by seemingly harmless appearances.

"Just you wait," he said confidently. "Something's going to leap out at us; I'd bet at least fifty Galleons on it. You'll see! Any moment… now." Nothing leapt out at them. "No, now. Now!"

Fred paused hopefully, his head cocked on one side and one finger raised in the air to keep Lee and George quiet. After a couple of minutes, Lee raised an eyebrow.

"I think you owe me fifty Galleons, mate."

"Oh, shut up, you prat. I was only joking!"

"Fifty Galleons _at least._"

"But I don't _have _fifty Galleons," moaned Fred.

"Not my problem," said Lee with a smirk. "Just because you're an idiot who makes a bet he can't keep, doesn't mean-"

"All right, all right," cut in George. "We all know Fred's a moron-"

"Hey! I am not!"

"-But we still need to figure out how to get past this task."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Easy. Ravenclaws are like Percy, right? Y'know, all boring and conscientious and what have you. They wouldn't bother with a monster or anything interesting like that. You probably just have to think to open the door or something. That'll be why this is the last challenge! To give us a break from all the actual hard stuff!"

George folded his arms, looking very sceptical indeed, but Fred just shrugged. He strode off across the chamber with a forced bravado that he hoped would make up for his earlier blunder. If he was totally honest, he wasn't entirely sure that it made sense for the Ravenclaw challenge to be – well – nothing. But what else could they do? They couldn't very well just stand in the corner of the room and starve to death without even trying the door handle first.

Fred grabbed the doorknob, but he dropped it almost at once, waving his hand around in the air in a slightly melodramatic fashion.

"Ow! It burnt me!" he said indignantly, sucking his fingers.

"Well, what did you expect?" George admonished him. "Ravenclaws are meant to have a few brain cells bouncing around in their noggins, you know."

"Fine then, if you're so clever, what are we meant to do?"

George didn't reply. He just bit on his lower lip in concentration, and began to walk slowly around the edges of the room, running his fingers carefully over the stone walls as he went.

"What are you looking for?" asked Fred.

"Shhh, I'm trying to think here, if you don't mind. And anyway, I don't know. Anything that sticks out, I suppose."

However, George got right the way around the room, and still hadn't found anything. He let out a low growling sound and leaned back against the door where they had come in. He closed his eyes, looking frustrated with himself.

"I knew this was going to be a tricky task," said Lee bitterly. "Bloody Ravenclaws. I mean, how are we meant to finish it if we can't even find the start?"

"I know," said George. "Seriously, why won't they make _anything_ obvious?"

Suddenly, as Fred was watching his twin, something caught his eye. Just above George's head, attached to the door, was a sculpted wooden eagle. It looked a bit like a door knocker. Fred frowned. It wouldn't have been particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the fact that he was almost certain he'd seen the Ravenclaws flocking around a similar-looking knocker as they tried to get into their common room...

"Look at that," he said, pointing up at the knocker.

"What is it?" George twisted around and looked up at the door in confusion.

Fred took a step forwards and reached up, grabbing the eagle door knocker. Feeling like a bit of an idiot, he rapped it against the door. It made a dull clunking noise, as wood hit wood, but then, after a few seconds' pause, a small scroll of parchment materialised in the eagle's beak. George carefully pulled it free and unrolled it. Fred and Lee clustered around him, reading over his shoulder.

_I have eyes and I have pupils,  
>And yet I cannot see.<br>Many wish to know me,  
>But not all can succeed.<br>Who am I?_

"Of course," said Lee, shaking his head. "Ravenclaw would have a riddle, wouldn't it?"

"Well, I'm not complaining," said George. "At least a riddle's not going to try to eat us alive…"

George sank down onto the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him, and laid the riddle down on the flagstones in front of him. He was quickly joined by the other two, who settled themselves down on either side of him to puzzle over the question. Fred's mind was buzzing, but as hard as he thought, he just could not make head or tail of the riddle. It was a few minutes before any of them spoke, but eventually, Lee adjusted his position on the floor and broke the silence.

"I just don't get it," he said. "'I have eyes and I have pupils.' It's such a weird way to phrase it. Surely the pupils are a bit of a given, if you already have eyes?"

"Maybe it's just to make it fit with the rhythm," suggested Fred.

"Yeah, perhaps," said Lee uncertainly.

George, by this point, had buried his face in his knees and stuck his fingers in his ears. He was muttering under his breath as he tried to figure out the answer to the riddle. Fred pricked up his ears to listen.

"-like a blind version of Gilderoy Lockhart…" George was mumbling.

This, on top of the fact that he was beginning to get quite sleepy, was too much for Fred. He burst out laughing, much to George's bemusement, and was soon clutching his sides and lying on the floor, tears of mirth blurring his vision. As his last few giggles gradually died away, he wiped his eyes and looked up at George and Lee's faces, which were staring down at him confusedly.

"I'm sorry," Fred gasped, almost overcome by a fresh wave of laughter as he saw his twin's expression. "I just- Blind Lockhart- What a _thick _idea-"

"You come up with better then," George said, pouting at Fred.

"But I can't!" Fred practically shrieked, still giggling uncontrollably. "Forgive me, O Master of the Riddles!"

George let his forehead drop into the palm of his hand with a thump. "Oh, for the love of Merlin…"

"Hang on, I've had an idea!" said Lee.

"What is it?" said Fred and George, in unison.

"While you two were busy bickering," said Lee, with an air of martyrdom, "I was working away at the riddle. And, through my own hard work and effort, I have-"

"Get to the point."

"Do you want to hear about my incredible discovery or not?"

Fred and George paused for a moment, exchanging glances. George raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, and Fred gave him a small nod.

"We want to hear about your discovery," said George finally.

"Thank you. Well, my most _masterful_ breakthrough is that I have suddenly realised that 'pupils' can mean 'students'."

Fred and George looked over at each other again.

"Is that it?" said Fred.

"That's useless!" said George at the same time.

"Congratulations, Lee, you've learnt the English language."

"So much for masterful discoveries…"

Lee waved his arms, cutting the twins off. "Wait a minute and hear me out, will you?" He paused, letting a dramatic silence hang in the air for a few seconds, before saying, "If we take the word 'pupil' to mean 'student' then it totally changes the meaning of the sentence."

Fred had to be honest; he was less than dazzled by this revelation.

"Yes, Lee," he said slowly, as though talking to a very small child who was being a little dim. "If you change the meaning of a word, it does tend to have a knock-on effect on the rest of the sentence."

Lee sighed. "You'll both see, when I crack this riddle before you do, that I was right."

"All right, Lee," said George.

"You do that," said Fred.

The two of them shared a quick smirk, and then turned back to the parchment. Fred, however, couldn't resist a glance back up at Lee. Lee's face had taken on an expression of intense concentration. He was rubbing his fingers against his temples as he frowned at the scroll. It was rather amusing to watch, actually, but Fred had work to do. Reluctantly, he looked back down at the scroll. This was beginning to feel like homework, rather than a supposedly fun and exciting challenge, and to say that he was not enjoying it would have been a vast understatement.

For what felt like hours (but was in fact only a couple of minutes) Fred scowled down at the riddle, his chin cupped in his hands. In fact, he was staring at the bloody piece of parchment for so long that he started to go a bit cross-eyed, and his vision went blurry. Soon, his mind had drifted far from the riddle, and he sank into a daze, his eyelids drooping. He was just beginning to wonder how long it would be before they got out of the challenge and he'd be able to grab a bite to eat and go to bed, when Lee's voice cut across his thoughts.

"Hah! Yes! I've got it!"

Fred whipped his head around towards his friend so fast that his neck clicked. He raised an eyebrow. "Have you actually worked it out though, or is this just another comment on your ever-widening vocabulary?"

"Button it, Fred-"

"I'm not Fred, I'm George!"

The real George cuffed Fred round the back of the head.

"You're Fred, and you can't fool me," said Lee. "Anyway, I really have worked it out. Look!"

He grabbed the parchment, pointing at it excitedly. Fred, despite his original doubts, leaned forwards and looked down at the scroll once more, as Lee began to explain.

"So, I was thinking, if 'pupils' means 'students', then maybe 'eyes' doesn't really mean 'eyes', y'know?"

"No, I don't think I do know…" said George.

"No, neither did I at first," admitted Lee. "But then I was repeating it in my head, over and over again, and it suddenly clicked. The letter I! Get it?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose so, but it doesn't make all that much sense in context…"

Lee sighed. "Just take my word for it, OK? So that's taken care of the line about not being able to see, because it's not a thing with actual eyes. Following on from that, we know that it's a word that has something to do with students, and has the letter I in it. And that it was something people wanted to have."

"Couldn't they have just said that in the first place if that was what they meant?" said Fred, crossing his arms irritably.

"I know, mate, but they're Ravenclaws, aren't they? They like this kind of weird stuff that doesn't actually mean what it means."

"Hmmm. I don't think I'm too fond of riddles. But carry on."

"Well… I got a bit stuck at that point, to be honest. I was thinking maybe Transfiguration, because that has students and a few of the letter I in it, but it just didn't seem right."

"No," said George knowledgeably. "I mean, I know I've never actually _wanted _to know about Transfiguration. I'm just naturally brilliant at it," he added as an afterthought.

"You? Good at Transfiguration?" choked Fred. He almost broke down into laughter again, but he just about managed to control himself. Just about. "I mean, do you even remember your summer exam?"

George crossed his arms, looking affronted. "I'll have you know," he said, in a passable imitation of Percy, "that my Transfiguration is some of the most exceptional in the school. I might even be as bold as to say it's the best in the country. Or, in fact, the world."

Fred opened his mouth, ready to retaliate, but Lee cut across them again.

"Stop interrupting my story, will you?" he said. "I'm just getting to the good bit!"

"Oooh," said Fred.

"Aaah," said George.

"This," said Lee, with a grin, "is the part where I made my miraculous discovery."

"Oh, George, the tension is just too much," said Fred. He raised the back of his hand to his forehead, pretending to suffer from a rather elaborate fainting fit, and collapsed backwards onto his twin.

Lee ignored him. "I just thought to myself, 'How would a Ravenclaw go about this?' And that was when the answer came to me. Intelligence!"

Fred sat up, his fainting fit quickly forgotten, and stared incredulously at Lee. "Intelligence? Is that it? You made us sit right the way through that long – and might I add, boring – story, just to announce that we have to be clever to figure out the blasted riddle?"

"I think we'd kind of worked that out for ourselves, Lee," said George.

"No, you don't get it!" said Lee. "That's the answer. 'Intelligence'. It fits."

Fred's eyes widened, as comprehension gradually dawned over him. "Ohhh… Oh, I get it now."

"Took you long enough, genius."

"Nice one, Lee!" said George, clapping his friend on the back. "So now what do we do?"

Lee began fishing around in the pockets of his robes. Finally, after quite a while searching, he whipped out a quill and a tiny pot of ink.

"What'd you bring that with you for?" Fred couldn't resist saying.

"Don't knock it, it's coming in handy now."

Lee dipped his quill in the ink, and then scrawled the word "_Intelligence_" on the bottom of the scroll of parchment. For a second, Fred stared at the parchment, waiting for something to happen. It was beginning to feel like a bit of an anti-climax, as nothing happened, but then George's elbow collided painfully with Fred's ribs, and Fred's head jerked up. Before his very eyes, several objects were fading into existence, scattered about the room.

There was a little wooden table just ahead of them, then to the left, a platform upon which there stood a few lamps. A little further down the chamber was a bookcase, piled high with dusty, leather-bound tomes, and then, barely even visible from where they were sitting, a silver key with a thick handle, enclosed in a glass case that was right next to the door. Fred made a mental note to take a closer look at the key as soon as he could. It looked like it might very well come in handy. All of the objects seemed to be shimmering ever so slightly, a bit like when dew settles on a spider's web overnight, and in the morning you can just make out the glistening water droplets. It was just enough to make them look not quite solid.

Fred pulled himself up from the floor and stepped tentatively towards the table. He tried to brush his hand over the top, but his fingers seemed to slide below the surface of the wood instead. He quickly withdrew his hand, shivering slightly. His fingertips felt cold and a little bit damp. It reminded him quite strongly of the time he'd accidentally stuck one arm through Nearly Headless Nick during breakfast.

"What happened?" said George, making his way over to Fred.

"It felt really weird," Fred told him. "Like water, or something."

He raised his hand, and was about to prod his finger into the table again, just to be sure, when Lee called out from just ahead of the twins, "Come over here. The bookcase feels perfectly solid."

Fred shrugged and abandoned his table, wandering over to Lee instead. Lee was busily pulling books out from the bookcase, shaking them, to check nothing was hidden between two pages, and then dumping them unceremoniously in a pile on the floor.

"Percy would have a fit if he saw you doing that," said George. "Books are sacred to him."

"He'd have another fit just because we were down here, breaking countless school rules," added Fred, with a smirk. "Isn't it fun disobeying our favourite older brother?"

"Found something!" said Lee.

"Honestly, Lee," said George.

"Weren't you listening at all?" continued Fred.

"Here we are-"

"-Sharing our wit and genius with you-"

"-And you can't even be bothered to pay attention."

"Just plain rude, that is. I'm hurt, George, aren't you?"

"Truly wounded."

Evidently, Lee still wasn't listening, because he made no reply. He was pouring over another piece of parchment that he'd found in the book.

"Oh, Merlin's pants," said Fred, peering over Lee's shoulder. "Another riddle. Just what we need."

George's eyes were flicking quickly across the parchment as he read. Finally, he lifted his head and gave Fred a weak smile. "I don't know… It's not so much of a riddle. Hopefully. Maybe."

Fred leant forwards again, and began to read aloud. "In this book you will find all the spells you need to get through your final challenge. You cannot touch the table or the lamps, but you will be able to bewitch them as you see fit, to acquire the key that you need from its glass case. But be warned – not just any spells will help you. The ones you must use are difficult, and any mistakes you make can have disastrous implications. Think carefully, for your life is in your own hands."

"Someone was feeling cheery when they wrote that," said Lee.

"Right little ray of sunshine," agreed Fred. "Anyway, let's have a look at that book!"

Lee hurriedly pulled a large book out of the pile where he had previously discarded it. After wiping off a thick layer of dust from the cover with his sleeve, he opened the book. There was a moment's pause, as Lee's eyes widened in apparent horror, and then Lee let out a muttered swear word.

"What is it?" said Fred, making a grab for the book.

He looked down at the open page and squinted at the narrow lines of text. It wasn't entirely clear; he supposed the handwriting was old-fashioned and therefore difficult to read. The letters all looked very thin and spiky, almost as though they were- Oh dear.

"Blimey… Are those Ancient Runes?" said Fred.

Lee nodded, looking gloomy. "I think so."

"Well what the hell are we meant to do now?"

"Maybe one or two of the spells are written in English," said George hopefully. "Let's have a look. Or- Lee, are you certain you picked up the right book?"

"Positive," said Lee, as Fred began flipping through pages, looking for any English writing that he could possibly find.

"OK," said George, his shoulders slumping slightly. "_Absolutely _sure?"

Lee bent down and rifled through the pile of books he'd tossed on the floor. "Makes no difference," he said. "They're all in Runic."

"Damn it."

For a couple of minutes, there was no sound but the quiet rustle of paper, as Fred scanned each page of the book.

"No luck?" said George, breaking the silence. He seemed to be growing steadily more frustrated, and looked a little red in the face.

"Nothing yet," said Fred, "but it'll probably take me hours to get through the whole book."

"But what if there's still nothing?" cried George. "What do we do then?"

"I suppose we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it," said Lee, slightly nervously.

George kicked out at the pile of books on the ground, coughing as a cloud of dust billowed up from their yellowing parchment pages. "I can't just stand here doing nothing," he said mulishly. He pulled out his wand from his pocket. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Errr… What are you doing?" said Fred, as the heavy bookcase lifted up from the ground and began to soar away from him. "George? Have you finally gone mad?"

"Nope," said George, with what Fred thought was a worryingly maniacal grin. "I'm using my initiative."

"He's gone mad," Fred told Lee, who was looking rather shocked. "I've got to be honest with you, I knew this day was coming sooner or later."

Fred turned back to watch his twin, his lips twitching into an amused smile. With a quick jerk of George's wand, the bookcase was raised high up towards the ceiling of the chamber. Fred's mouth fell slightly open as he gazed up at it, feeling quite impressed with his brother, whatever his plan turned out to be.

Right at that moment, George broke the spell and let the bookcase fall. It toppled down, complete with the remaining books, and hit the cabinet containing the key. The glass shattered with a resounding crash, and Fred, his mouth still hanging slightly ajar, watched the silver key fly through the air to land among shards of glass and old books. He rushed forwards to scoop up the key and spun around to grin at George.

"Nice one!" he said. "I think I may have seriously underestimated you."

George gave him a bow, twirling his hands ostentatiously. "We both know I'm the cleverer twin, dear brother of mine. Hence the fact that I've beaten the Ravenclaw challenge."

"By cheating."

"I prefer to think of it as… creativity. 'Cheating' is such a harsh word, don't you think?"

"You two are both mental," said Lee. "Now let me see that key!"

"Here you go." Fred tossed the key over to him, and Lee dashed straight to the door.

"Ah," he said, after a short pause. "We might have a very small problem."

"Not another one…" groaned George. "What's happened?"

"There's no keyhole in this door."

Fred hit himself in the forehead. "We just can't win, can we?"

"Hang on a second…"

"What? What is it?" Fred ran over to Lee, with George following close behind him, and stared intently down at the key in the palm of Lee's hand.

"I think I can see writing on the handle…"

Fred snatched the key back out of Lee's hand before anyone could stop him and held it up close to his eye. Sure enough, there were words engraved in the silver handle of the key, curling round it in miniscule writing, so tiny that Fred had to squint to be able to read it.

_First is the shout you let out when you fall,  
>Second is the region you reach.<br>Third, in the middle, is somewhere you belong,  
>Where your heart can lie safe and complete.<br>The penultimate word splits up one from another,  
>Then finally, the first sound repeats.<em>

"Don't these people ever get tired of riddles?" said Fred.

"I don't think so," Lee told him seriously. "They have to answer one to get into their common room, don't they? That's what I've heard."

"They are genuinely all mental. They have to be."

"Yeah, well, whatever doubts we may have about the sanity of Ravenclaw house – and trust me, I share those doubts – we still have to crack the riddle if we ever want to get out of here," said Lee, with a small smile.

"All right. Fine. Let's do this!" Fred re-read the riddle, his forehead creasing into a frown. "Right. Err… Shout you let out when you fall… That would be 'help'. So… erm… help – ground – I have no idea what that next one is, but it sounds a bit sappy if you ask me – umm… What separates one from another? Maybe they're talking about letters again. Athr? What the hell? And then- Well, that last clue's just cheating, isn't it? Repeat the first sound. Honestly!"

George and Lee, who had been listening in total silence to Fred's deductions, looked more than a little bit dazed by it all.

"Right," said George eventually, shaking himself alert again, "If we just discount whatever rubbish comes out of Fred's mouth, I'm sure we can solve this thing!"

"That's not a very nice thing to say to your favourite brother!"

"Oh, shush, you know it's true."

"Well, I never. I'm deeply saddened, George. _Deeply and intensely._"

"You'll live," smirked George. "So, Lee, what do you think about the first line?"

"The thing you shout when you're falling? I'm not sure… What do you think? You've done quite a bit of falling recently, you should know."

"Yeah, well, I'm not at my most eloquent when falling. I tend to just yell, 'Ahhhh!' and that's about it," said George sheepishly. "Actually, that could be it! That counts as a sound, doesn't it?"

"You're right," said Lee, sounding impressed. "That might work."

"Oh, well of course _you_ two would figure something out," muttered Fred bitterly from his position against the wall, crossing his arms.

George reached over and patted him comfortingly on the top of the head. "There, there."

"What about this region you reach by falling?" said Lee, biting his lip. "Ground? Floor? The bottom? Nothing seems to fit…"

"I don't know… Shall we come back to that later?"

"OK. So onto the middle thing, about your heart, and belonging somewhere. Where does your heart 'lie safe and complete'?"

"In your ribcage, hopefully," piped up Fred.

"Other than your ribcage," said George, with an air of very forced patience.

Fred considered for a moment, and then said, "I think it might mean home. Home is where the heart is, and all that."

George looked mildly impressed. "As much as I hate to admit it, I think that could be right."

"Exactly," said Fred, "because I am a genius."

He gave George the most smug look he possessed, until George hit him (rather harder than was necessary, in Fred's humble opinion) on the arm. Fred rubbed his arm resentfully and glowered at his twin, but George and Lee had already moved onto the next clue.

"-one from another," Lee was saying. "I just don't get it. It's too general."

"Yeah, the only thing I can think of is the phrase 'one or another', but I don't think that's very much help."

"Hang on," said Fred slowly.

"What?"

"What if 'or' actually is the word that splits up one and another? Surely that could work?"

"I don't know… Maybe," said George. "I suppose we could try that, and then see if it fits with the rest of what we've got."

"Hmm, what have we worked out so far then?" said Lee. He began ticking off clues on his fingers. "Ah, something, home, or, ah."

"Ah-something-home-or-ah, ah-something-home-or-ah," Fred began to chant under his breath. "Ah-something-home-or-ah."

"Can you be quiet? You're going to give me a headache," said George, sticking his fingers in his ears and wincing.

But Fred barely even heard him, because suddenly, blindingly obviously, the answer had come to him. "Alohomora!" he shouted.

"What?"

"The region you end up when you fall is 'low'. It's a pretty rubbish clue, to be honest, but it works. A-lo-hom-or-a," he said slowly.

Slowly, a grin spread across George's face, and he grabbed Fred into a hug, almost jumping up and down with excitement. "That's it! I swear, I'll never insult your intelligence again."

"That'll be the day," said Fred, but even he couldn't keep a smile off his face. They had done it. They had completed the challenge. They had won! Fred pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora."

Instead of the clicking noise he was accustomed to, a keyhole appeared just below the door handle. Fred slotted the key into the hole easily and unlocked the door, before pulling it open with a flourish. However, whatever he had been expecting to see outside the door, this wasn't it. The three First Years stared out through the final doorway, simultaneously drawing in breath. They couldn't make out anything outside the door; the only thing they could see was a thick blanket of swirling fog, which obscured their vision completely.

"Is that… safe?" said Lee uncertainly.

"It must be," said George, though he too sounded dubious. "Shall we all go together?"

"On the count of three," Fred said, nodding. "One… two… three."

He shared one last glance with George, and then, plucking up all his courage, he stepped outside. They were completely engulfed into the mist.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Oh, gosh, this has to be my longest gap yet… I'm so sorry, everyone! I completely underestimated the amount of work that sixth form would be… Gah, I haven't had anywhere near enough time to write all term! Thank goodness it's the Christmas holidays and I have a bit of time to carry on with this story. I've missed it so much! Anyway, I just want to reassure you all that I will not give up on it, however long it may take me to finish. I'm too close to the end for that! Only two more chapters left, unless something goes very differently to how I planned it.<strong>

**I did poke a bit of fun at Ravenclaw in this chapter. I'm allowed to, because I am one, hehe (and very proud of it!) I will admit though that I actually felt quite guilty about the mistreated books, even if they did come out of my own mind. I do not advocate the destruction of books! Not even old ones written in Runic. In fact, particularly not old ones written in Runic. Just wanted to make that clear. :P**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway, though I do feel like my writing's deteriorated a bit… And thank you so much if you're still following the story, despite the horribly long gap! You're wonderful and I love you!  
><strong>


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